Dark Room
by Fashionaddict22
Summary: Madge has won the Hunger Games and is suffering the same fate as Finnick Odair. Gale is forced to watch the women he's grown to love be the new whore of Panem. Katniss thinks its all not worth it. Mostly Gadge, eventual Peeniss, maybe some Fannie. Rated M because of sexual references, strong language, prositution and maybe future lemons.
1. Chapter 1

Dark room, money on the metal table, drunken laughter, evil smiles.

Rich businessmen's cold hands on her body – stealing her innocence and spilling her blood.

The quiet but brave blonde who defied the odds. Reduced. To a whimpered child in the corner forced to sell herself to save those whom she loves.

Not even the Victors get to win.

Madge Undersee. The betters had given her about 5 minutes in the arena at first. She was the weak little mayor's daughter. The innocent blonde whose delicate hands had so obviously never worked a day in her life – compared to their rough calloused ones. Everyone underestimated her. No one realised her strength and will to live. She was devoted to keeping her mother alive –that's what her world had been for as long as she could remember and she wasn't about to give up now. She might think that she's the sister that the Hunger Games claimed but that woman is still Madge's mother and she will protect her. Even if it should be the opposite way round.

Turns out all her efforts were futile. He'd shown grief. He'd accidently yelled out her name when his only daughter was picked to die on national TV in probably some inhumane way. They killed him for it. A bullet in the head is the reward for a few minutes of despair. Mrs Undersee didn't last long afterwards. The officials say that she committed suicide by overdosing on morphling but everyone else knew better – the capitol just didn't want to put up with her anymore.

When Madge Undersee arrived home she barely saw the crowds, the faces of the people who wished it wasn't her – no one missed the spoilt little mayors daughter they wanted Aaron the popular kid from the seam. Shaking the new Mayor's hand is how she found out he parents had died.

Thank god for Haymitch. Don't think that has ever been said before. He guided her away from the press and to the house that wasn't home. I curl up on the unfamiliar sofa and nothing.

Madge doesn't feel anymore, robotic. Going through the motions. In unbearable pain and at the same time numb.

All she could feel is the blood on he hands and cold sweaty hands exploring her skin. Touching her in places no one else has seen.

She is nothing. She died when she made her first kill. Fifteen years old, male, District 5, don't even know the name. Just the feeling of her knife scraping his bones. Plunging into his skin. Running as life ebbed out of him and he faded into darkness.

She's an empty shell. A floating body. A monster. Wishing she could be eternally sleeping with her family and the other tributes. She doesn't deserve to live.

Unwelcoming kitchen draw open. A sharp knife that she knows too well how to use. She deserves pain.

Quick as a flash, glint of cold metal in the air, slicing through skin like butter. Relief. Relief that she can feel sets in and she repeats the motion. Three more cuts appear on her arm. Scarlet blood dripping on the floor.

Out of the corner of her eye she sees something. A piano. Arm still flowing freely she sits and her fingers move into autopilot. The song fills the air. He arm leaving a trail of red as it moves along the keys. For once it's like she can feel herself again. For a short while she is still Madge Undersee. The innocent Mayor's daughter who loved strawberries. She can forget.

Until she remembers. She's not Madge Undersee anymore. She's the Capitol's puppet. The beautiful tribute from district 12. The one who surprised them all. The door swings open and a familiar voice calls "Undersee" – Haymitch and another familiar voice "Madge" – Katniss.

Haymitch finds me first. I see the conflicting emotions of shock, anger and pity swirl on his face before resting on concerned. He's like a long lost uncle to me. He absorbs the bloody knife, the piano with trails of red tarnishing the ivory, my arm with fresh blood on it. "Everdeen don't come in yet"

How does he know Katniss? It's not until I see the tears fall on my clothes that I realise I'm crying. Katniss comes in anyway and gasps – shocked. I'm surprised she's here after all I've done. Who wants to know a monster?

Haymitch gathers me in his arms and puts in in my bathroom whilst Katniss (I let out a laugh here as she cringes) strips me naked and pushes me into the shower. It takes five minutes for her to work out how to turn the damn thing on. Then she leaves

The water smells like strawberries. I stay in for what seems like hours. Scrubbing and scrubbing – I still feel dirty. I still feel the clammy hands, the sense of intrusion and the pain as someone forces themselves on me. The first one didn't give a shit I was a virgin. Just kept going. The blood on my hands may not be visible to the naked eye but I feel it. I feel Aaron's blood on my body as he bleeds out in my arms, I feel his lips on my forehead when he thought I was asleep. His hand in mine as we hunted together. How I didn't love him like he loved me.

"Oh Madge" Katniss comes in again, eyes glistening with tears and pity.

Whispering. "Please don't pity me, I don't deserve it, I deserve these" waving my arm in the air. I do I need all the pain in the world. That's why I cannot kill myself. It's the cowards way out. The ones who died whilst I still survive deserve guilt. They deserve the reason for their shortened lives – first and second hand to be in turmoil.

She wraps me in a dressing gown and the next morning I find myself in bed.

Shower. Scrub, scrub, scrub away the blood and the pain and the unwanted attention. My hair wet streaming down my back. They said I was stunning. That with my blonde hair and blue eyes I still managed to look pretty during the games. Now I wish I resembled the trolls in fairy tales. When you're a Victor beauty is not a gift but a curse.

When I get out some strange Capitol machine dries my hair so it's soft and falls in glossy glowing waves to my waist. In the Capitol's eyes it doesn't matter if your abused, broken or have lost everything you care about as long as you still look camera ready. Ignorant assholes.

Pulling on the first thing I see – a pale blue dress apparently. I run away from the Capitol's prying eyes. Waiting for me to do the wrong thing. Hating me because I like my father showed grief. Every night when the death toll was shown I would stand. Head held high, three fingers first touching my lips then held proudly in the air. Honouring the ones for whom the odds were not in their favour. Running to the one place they can't find me.

**Katniss POV **

Load, aim, pull, release, dinner. The rabbit moves no more. Unblinking eyes portraying shock, its quick death left no time for fear. In her mind's eye she saw a girl – blonde and beautiful – hysterical. Covered in the blood of another. Knife clattering at her feet. Screaming useless apologies' to a deaf ear. As she's crowned the unwilling winner. Then the same girl defiant and determined saluting the dead. Her blonde hair glowing in the moonlight. Then the broken girl she saw yesterday, blood dripping from fresh cuts on her arm. Silent tears streaming down her face, skin rubbed raw. Pleading with me not to pity he as she doesn't deserve it. She think she's a monster.

Gale flashes me a grin. "Nice one Catnip – what's wrong?"

"I'm worried about Madge" Gales carefree smile falters. I think he respects Madge more now from her ability to survive, her attempt to save Aaron and her downright refusal to play the game by anything other than her own rules.

"She seemed alright when she came home and at the interviews"

"She's a politician's daughter Gale, she has been putting on a mask her entire life – it's practically in her blood. She's broken Gale, yesterday when me and Haymitch found her she'd cut herself, was playing the most depressing song on her piano and when in the shower rubbed her skin raw"

"Oh - shit"

"Shit exactly, she said to me and I quote Please don't pity me, I don't deserve it, I deserve these – she thinks that she's a monster Gale"

When we reach a clearing we see a blonde figure sitting on a fallen log. Shaking. Her blonde hair long and shiny but dishevelled. Her dangerously thin figure hunched over, perfect features twisted in a kind of pain regular painkillers can't fix, those starling, immediately recognisable blue eyes wet. The most infamous blue eyes in Panem (currently) glazed over and filled with grief. Her skin in once again rubbed red and raw. The wounds on her arms have reopened. She looks so innocent and pure. The fact that the Capitol has made her think she's a monster is unbelievable.

I run over and try to hug her but she freezes and starts whimpering. I hear a shaky voice whisper "Please, please don't touch me"

Mildly offended – until I remember what Haymitch told me about what they did to her. "Shit, Madge I'm so sorry I forgot about what Haymitch told me…"

"About what?" Her head pops up looking genuinely interested.

"Madge, you know about what – I'm so sorry that they are doing that to you"

"Sorry but I still have no idea what Haymitch told you" As Gale speaks I look at him. He looks concerned. He has approached Madge carefully and looks like he desperately wants to take her in his arms – huh?

I swear the whole forest has stilled. No loose leaf, whisper of a wind or confused animal dares to break the silence. Madge does.

"Well… um…apparently during the games some of Snows inner circle and rich businessmen took a shine to me so Snow forces me to… He… fuck it he collects money from people so that they can fuck me" With that Gale looks like he could rip the tree's from the ground he's so angry. I'm actually terrified he's going to do something stupid. It's not fun for me watching her like this. So broken. Hearing her say those words is a thousand times worse than when Haymitch says them. When he does it is all more like a dream – a false reality. My mind doesn't seem to fully accept it. With her saying the words laced with so much hurt and so many excruciating memories it hits like a ten ton truck. Madge is still speaking.

"He said that if I don't do it he'll bomb the seam. If I don't look like I enjoy it he'll do it anyway, same for if I refuse to do exactly what the client wants, it's times like this I'm glad the others died, they won't be the new Whore of Panem and they will never see that room, that table, their eyes… it's so cold. Sometimes it feels like I want to die but death won't do anything, it won't help others it's just disrespectful. Actually what the fuck am I doing? I can't let them break me, it's basically spitting on the memory of those who died – especially Aaron he died saving my life so why on Earth am I wasting it? No point. (She stands up talking louder, her eyes crackling with fire. She no longer looks weak but strong – a fighter – the victor who refused to play by the Capitols rule) They hate me because during the games I didn't let them break me, so why play directly into their hands now. My parents would be ashamed – they can touch me and hurt me and dress me up like a doll to suit their needs but they will never break me"

The last five words are said with so much conviction. You can bloody tell she's a Mayor's daughter and a Victor. She is alive, glowing, fire-y. I don't think she's ever looked more stunning. Glancing to my right I see with a smirk that Gale agrees. His mouth open. Like when we first saw her in the chariot set on fire, casting a spell on us all during the interviews. I think Hazelle was tempted to send Gale out for water with Rory and Vick when she bathed in the games pretty girl in wet underwear and boy hormones mixed is not a good thing. It was pretty funny though watching him unconsciously fall for the girl he hated the most.

She mentions Aaron. I remember them together. The star-crossed lovers they called them. I don't think Madge even realised until he kissed her when he thought she was sleeping. I would have been so pissed. I would have never gone through with it. It was quite amusing in a sad way watching Madge have no idea that Aaron was in love with her and that the commentators were calling them the star-crossed lovers. I don't think she realised the extent of how much he loved her until he dived in front of that knife meant for her. I don't think I'll ever forget her face, how she screamed his name, how she killed his attacker without hesitation. How she held him as he died and gave him one last kiss. I can still see the blood on her lips. The question needs to be asked.

"Did you love Aaron?"

Madge looks like she's about to burst into tears, Gale looks fit to kill something again. I realise why I don't talk much.

"Not like he loved me, to me he was like my brother, was it really obvious?"

After almost laughing I hear Gale say "You have no idea what effect you have on people".

Then it gets kind of weird and awkward. Very awkward.

Next month I walk into the clearing where we now meet after doing some rounds that I do without Gale and I see a not entirely unexpected sight but one that makes my heart bleed. Gale has Madge on his lap, his hand up her skirt and their tongues down each overs throat. It hurts because in a few hours Madge will be on a train to the Capitol in the same position with another man but under entirely different context. I think she actually loves Gale and I bloody know gale actually loves her.

They suddenly realise I've made an appearance and jump apart. I feel my face heating up and see Gale turn a deep crimson when a suspicious bulge in Gale's pants comes clear or in other less pretentious words he's hard. "I'll leave you to it" They don't argue as I leave.

I'm so happy for them but I think that their little tryst is pointless. They will both just end up getting hurt when Madge gets carted off to the Capitol and Gale gets angry. Romance is pointless. Survival is the highest priority so why bother getting involved in pointless activity? I am never having kids. Madge and me are just walking examples of what kind of world we live in. It's selfish to willingly force the innocent to witness human cruelty. We may scream when we see a spider but we are the real monsters.

Gale once told me that the fact we live in a hard world makes relationships' essential. He says that the world is tough and it's not fair so we have to get happiness from whatever we can. I say then why forge romances. Everyone leaves eventually and we just have to pick up the pieces their deaths leave to us. He says aren't the memories worth it? No not at all.

Then Madge takes that fateful train.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry this has taken so long! Curse revision, writers block and my attempt to actually have a life :L**

**Madge POV**

Nothing. Emptiness. I'm scared that I'll return to that dark place I was in when I returned from the Hunger Games.

So completely terrified I don't even feel his hands raping me over and over again. Forcing my hand along his length. Pushing inside me. The smell of blood and roses in my nose.

What I heard. The only light in my life will be taken, stolen, undergo the same torcher as me and most likely never return. Only one can return – I have to choose between my best friend and the boy I'm in love with or maybe members of my family.

To top it all off they're best friends and I don't have much family and I have to watch their disintegration to madness – that's if they're lucky. Just fucking brilliant.

Fucking Quarter Quell.

**Katniss POV**

Me and Gale are hunting in the woods and are both on edge. We always are when Madge is away because we know what she's away doing and when we turn on the TV we'll probably see who. Yesterday I saw our dear president on the screen and all I could think of is Madge telling us how he reeked of blood and artificial roses.

Target spotted. Breath – in out. Aim. Pull back. Crash – the deer gets startled and runs in the opposite direction. I catch gale's silver eyes that look so much like my own and am about to yell about scaring my game when we hear a familiar sob.

Turning around we see a blonde figure storm past us – completely oblivious. Tears' streaming down her face - Madge is hysterical. She stops at a gnarled old tree – great for climbing and promptly throws up. When rubbing her back and comforting her I realise something and as Gale looks at me with an inferno raging in his eyes he's come to the same conclusion.

She reeks of blood and roses.

After gentle words and soft touches Madge finally starts to calm down. Her hair is never normally completely perfect but today it looks wild, as if she's never even seen a comb in her life and has just been dragged through our woods, she's shaking all over and there are long scratches down her arms – some of which look to be made by fingernails and sure enough her medium length fingernails are coated with dirt and blood. In her eyes there's a look that doesn't often stray into her azure orbs – hopelessness. Gale draws her in close and touches his lips to hers for a few moments.

"Madge, what happened?" I think aloud and am rewarded by a look that could kill – again this is why I'm a quiet person.

"Sn-Snow hired me today and I was waiting for him when I saw some papers. I didn't realise what they were for and thought they were instructions as to what I should do or a script – they do that sometimes – but they weren't, they were for the Quarter Quell. That twist is this year 'To commemorate how people fought against brothers and friends in the rebellion this year's tribute pool will be picked out of friends and families of past Victors and tributes of any age can be selected' oh and no volunteers allowed"

Me and Gale are completely speechless – everyone knows we are friends. Prim could be picked – Posy! And I couldn't save her. Madge's sick mother…

"They included a list of names for District 12 – Katniss Everdeen, Lea Everdeen, Primrose Everdeen, Timothy Undersee, Melanie Undersee, Gale Hawthorne, Hazelle Hawthorne, Rory Hawthorne, Vick Hawthorne, Posy Hawthorne, Lavash Mellark, Henrietta Mellark, Rye Mellark, Wheat Mellark and Peeta Mellark"

Now Gale and I give each over confused looks. "Why the Mellark's?"

"Remember, me and Peeta are friends and Haymitch thought that we could pass them off as my cousins as we couldn't mess with the star-crossed lovers.

Her avoiding Aaron's name was obvious, she still felt guilty over his death. It hit me. Posy and Vick and under reaping age; my little duck and Rory are thirteen; Madge's mom is sick; My mom is one of the only healers in town; Hazelle has five kids – two of which should be below reaping age; Madge's dad is the bloody mayor!; Gale is my best friend and well the Mellark's are human Mrs Mellark may be a total bitch but she's still human with three sons and a husband who loves her. Peeta – messy blond waves, bright blue eyes – he saved my life with that bread and I still owe him. Even though I barely know him it would still be incredibly painful to see him go in.

**Madge POV**

They think I'm too upset to interpret their faces. Alright the feeling of Gale's hard muscles under his shirt may have distracted me for a few moments but I could see it all. Shock, fear and knowing them it isn't for themselves – their faces when I said all ages and no volunteering. Posy is fucking six years old! If she gets reaped what are the chances she'll live over a 20 year old? How the fuck could a six year old kill a person? Answer they couldn't for Posy, Vick, Rory and Prim it's basically a death sentence and mom – she's sick. If any of them get reaped they might as well have a public execution instead.

"I so sorry, you must regret ever getting mixed up in my shit" A wordsmith I am not. Well not right now away. It's just – there are no words, how to you even begin to apologise for this? If I knew this would happen I would have run away and became a hermit a long time ago.

Gale answers my query with a kiss. It's full of passion and fire and without words he manages to say – no way. The kiss escalates, when I bite his bottom lip he lets out a moan. He pulls me onto his lap and his hands explore my body – I feel his erection in my thigh…

**Katniss POV**

Well this is awkward. This is beginning to feel like – teenage pregnancy one, where it all started. Time to let them know they're in company. 'Ahem ahem'

They suddenly break apart Madge shoots me a look that says 'sorry but..' Gale just looks pleased with himself. Upon spotting a mysterious bulge in his pants I feel myself begin to resemble a tomato.

"Snow has way too much power"

Smirking Madge jokes "Let's just say it's a huge overcompensation"

"Does Gale measure up?" I say enjoying watching him squirm.

Madge gives me her most innocent look and says with a smile on her face in her sweetest voice "Don't worry, Gale's dick is much bigger"

Now both Gale and I are red and Madge is absolutely pissing herself – practically crying with laughter.

It might seem wrong to joke about this but when something is so horrible the only way to get through it is to joke and laugh. Everyone needs some light in the dark.

**Hey that's the end of that chapter! Next time is Madge telling everyone else and Peeta and Katniss meeting! Should I go OOC and make Peeta not be in love with Katniss or should I stick to the original story? Please tell me what I'm doing wrong so I can fix it and bye xxx**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for the wait I have had things going on in my life both school and personal but here's the third chapter aka awkward. Please comment what I can do to improve my writing (no beta comments would prefer if you could give me something to work on )**

_To The Mellarks_

_Hi I haven't seen you in a while! How've you all been?_

_Can you all come to my house at 7 o clock on Saturday? We need to talk._

_p.s. Peeta if you look fake afraid when you see me again I'll unleash my inner victor on your ass._

_Best Wishes_

_Madge Undersee_

**Madge POV**

Shit, fuck, bloody hell, fudgestick's, every bad word I knew flew into my head as the clock reached 6:59. Knowing Peeta he' be here the moment it reached 7 and Gale's family will be here any minute with Katniss'.

The last one I think of make me smile 'Hell's teeth' reminding me of the brilliant silver eyed miner helping me through this. My big warm calloused rock. Upon realising I had said my little curse-a-thon out loud a large warm hand suddenly appeared on my shoulder sending little electric shocks through my body at his touch. Gale. I turned around and wrapped my arms around his waist and he pulled me in flush against him "You are so beautiful" he whispers in my ear – my entire body is shocked with sparks from the near contact "You aren't so bad yourself" then I peck his cheek – right next to his lips in a hope of giving him the same feeling he gives me. It was only at the sound of a sharp little cough we broke apart, glaring at an awkward looking Katniss – a scowl permanently embedded on her face.

"Miss Madge!" Posy came hurtling through the door, completely disregarding her brother and straight into my arms. I pulled her in close, smirking at the lopsided braids she'd obviously attempted to do herself after many, many lessons. I bet Hazelle tried to do it but Posy insisted. Sweet stubborn Posy. After releasing her I shooed her to a slightly annoyed but slightly amused Gale "figures you prefer her, I'm only your brother" he jokes. I bet he's thinking the same as me and one glance at Katniss shows me she's on the same page. With Posy's long impossibly straight blue-black hair, olive skin and big grey eyes with flecks of brown imbedded in them give it a few years and we will have to invest in a very strong stick – not that with three tall strong brothers (the eldest of which I swear has the hormones of a teenage girl in a big hulking male body), a hunger games victor and self-proclaimed physco as his girlfriend and Katniss who is just plain scary no-one will mess with her.

"Posy! Let them breathe" Hazelle calls whilst chuckling as Posy attach's herself to an uncomfortable looking Katniss' ankles. Hazelle looks just as tired as normal – bags under her eyes and hands rubbed raw from laundry she refuses to let me help with. Apart from that you can tell she's a very pretty woman – must have had boys flocking all over her in past days. Her hair is like a longer version of Posy's but the thick black locks have tiny hints of grey, her smile is as genuine as ever and just looking at it makes you want to know this woman and her silver eyes – so much like her son's carry the same kindness and warmth. She envelops me in a hug and strokes my blonde waves. She smells of smoke and cheap soap – a smell I have learnt to draw comfort from as to be honest seeing as my Mother was slightly like my daughter. Hazelle is like the mother I never had. This should make me feel guilty but whenever that feeling creeps in I remember her telling me with her eyes that she hated how I had to grow up without a mother figure and realise that this is what she would have wanted. When she pulls away she gives me a look I know only too well. Crap. She wants to have 'girl talk' again – I hate it. Unfortunatly with Posy being too young and Katniss being well Katniss I am her only source of girl talk that doesn't think boys are 'icky' and isn't under ten (joking).

"Muuummm Rory hit me" "I did not!" "He did mum- it hurt" "mummy's boy" I am not!" "yeah you are.." "BOYS" Rory and Vick are here.

Vick comes bounding into the house with the energy of an over-excited puppy… or a 12 year old boy. His black hair is cropped very short – which I know is his mother's choice not his if it was up to him it'd look exactly like Rory or Gale's. His pale silver eyes – almost an exact match to his Mother's and Gale's shine with childlike excitement and it pains me for a minute that he has his name in the reaping bowl. He is in the coltish stage where they're all arms and legs and is almost taller than me – fantastic.

Suddenly a high pitched squeal fills the room and a blur of blonde hair rushes forward to greet Katniss. From the unusual lack of scowl I can tell its Prim. She is getting prettier each passing day. Her corn silk hair is almost straight but with a slight wave and her pale blue orbs are full of kindness and happiness. She looks like she has more meat on her bones than last time I saw her – good actually bad might have to invest in a good stick sooner than anticipated – if anyone can get past Katniss. Suddenly she goes bright red and half hides behind Katniss. Huh?

The door reveals the secret to her embarrassment. Rory Hawthorne is a carbon copy of Gale apart from he looks a few years younger and his hair is a little longer – ebony waves falling into his deep grey eyes with little flecks of brown – like Posy's. His eye's carry to tale of a young man forced to grow up to fast – much like his brother's and Katniss' they however also carry a mischievous gleam and he winks when he sees Prim – who now has an uncanny resemblance to a tomato. Guess we can hold off on the stick – for now. Bloody hell, he's going to beat Gale in the height stakes at this point – if that's actually possible I swear the Hawthorne's are fairy tale creatures in disguise surprised the don't live up a bloody tree and have unusual food preferences. The fact that his frame isn't fully filled out yet and the slightly clumsy way he handles his limbs suggest his youth but don't deter from the fact that at fourteen he looks like a man already. Since his brother has been working pretty much all day at the mines it seems as he's taken over his hunting duties and when Gale isn't around the role of 'Man of The House'.

"Lavash! You haven't changed a bit!" The unmistakable voice of Lea Everdeen rings out. Her blonde which is streaked with silvery grey her a little stringy and her blue eyes a little tired; the wrinkles on her face slightly more prominent. She is hanging onto the strong arm of the baker – with his pissed off looking wife trailing behind. He looks strong and stocky from years of lifting sacks of flour, his piercing blue eyes carry the same gentleness as the day I met him when I fell over and scraped my knee at five. His neat blonde waves is half grey now, he has the good kind of wrinkles – lines around the mouth and eyes that tell of a lifetime of happiness and laughter. His wife on the other hand has deep set frown lines from years of well-being a fussy bitch. Her blonde waves are pinned up in an elaborate hairstyle that probably actually took a few minutes as she throws herself into the bakery and discriminating as seam kids. Her eyes are navy ice. Not a hint of warmth. She is beautiful in not the same way as Hazelle but in a cold way that is normally reserved for one night stands not marriages. She glares at little Posy and when Vick goes to shake her hand she actually wipes it on her skirt – I could slap her. Luckily Hazelle is distracted by carefully watching Rory and Prim; Gale and Katniss are talking in the kitchen and Rory and Prim are getting dangerously close to angsty teenage drama territory.

Peeta walks in with his brothers – who I completely disregard and envelop him in a huge hug – it's been way too long. His perpetually messy blonde waves are falling into his shocking azure eyes; he is just as strong as ever with his arm muscles wrapped around my body and he smells of dill and freshly baked bread.

Our bodies may be pressed against each over but this hug is not like mine and Gale's, which was filled with love, lust and the promise of more – this is friendly and familiar but still comforting. The hug we give each over whenever his mum beats him or mine would forget of my entire existence. When we break away he is giving that warm 'Peeta' smile that girls normally trip over their feet for. I notice a smudge of flour on his cheek and pat my own in indication of this – normally I would wipe it off myself but judging by the look a certain grumpy miner is giving him I don't think it would be a good idea – Katniss just looks like she wants to either hug Peeta or jump out of the window – which wouldn't help my plan. I'll give you a few hints: it involves an unsuspecting Peeta and Katniss being sent on a moonlit stroll to the furthest away shop in town – Katniss seeing how awesome Peeta is an immediately falling as head over heels for him as he is for her. Foolproof.

Everyone makes small talk for a few minutes and I go into the kitchen to find that Gale has followed me. I crush him against me and press my lips to his. He responds enthusiastically for a few seconds until pulling away. Rejection fills me.

"Madge, you're just stalling the inevitable"

"What if I just wanted to kiss you? When people are dating they do tend to kiss – don't you want to?" I know he'll deny that but it's fun watching him squirm.

"Madge you know perfectly well all I want right now is to kiss you but priorities"

"Of which include telling the only remaining people I care about that they're going to be sent to their deaths because of me – jees I wonder why I want to put it off"

"Madge will you stop being so selfish! They have the right to fucking know!"

"We have a right to fucking know what?" Bloody hell Rory.

I step into my little living room and I want to run into the woods, curl into the foetal position and cry until I cannot possibly go on. My friends are oblivious. Peeta is talking awkwardly to an uncomfortable looking Katniss; His brothers are conspiring with Vick; Posy is talking animatedly to Hazelle; Rory and Prim are sitting talking in a corner their hands inching closer and closer together; Lavash and Lea and laughing together – Henrietta Mellark scowls in the corner glaring at them after I notice hiding all knives from sight - subtle.

These people's lives are about to come crashing down all because they know me. It's times like this I wish I died in that arena. They say that death is the worst thing in the world but they are wrong, death is simply the next chapter a brand new adventure into the unknown, the worst thing in the world is not that they destroyed me – but they are destroying the ones I love to.

It all comes gushing out of my mouth like a volcano eruption. From the looks on these people's faces I'd take the volcano right now. They look devastated. Hazelle has her arms wrapped tightly around her kids as if sheer will alone would prevent them being taken. It's worse than when I had to explain it to Gale and Katniss – half of these people are kids, most of the others thought they'd be safe from the reaping forever.

"I wish I never met you" Peeta's mum says venom dripping from her words which burn like acid. I didn't even notice she'd slapped me until I saw Peeta yell at her. Every emotion I'd felt through this ordeal comes rushing back and before I know it I've got the waterworks turned on and am running out of the door to the house of the only person who understands. Haymitch.

**Katniss POV**

It's so much worse hearing it the second time. Telling everyone it's like its actually happening. Not five minutes ago I was having an awkward conversation with Peeta – I already owe him enough getting to know him better would just incite more to owe him for. Or I could find something to help me repay him. The boy with the bread. He's nice enough, hopefully not too nice to refuse to let me do anything to help him. Upon reaching this conclusion I hear his witch of a mother.

"I wish I never met you" her words sharp, cutting like knives. Then she actually slaps her. Gale looks like he's about to kill her. Peeta beats him to it. Madge looks forlorn – like she just can't do this anymore and I'm about to go find her when Peeta's mum distracts me.

By punching him in the face and he just takes it. Second best wrestler in the school and he can't stand up to a weak looking woman? She just keeps hitting him and hitting him – his family looks like they're used to it and Posy is screaming in a sickened looking Hazelle's arms – its Rory who tries to drag her off him. Then she hits Rory.

This time Peeta sharply pulls her off Rory and pins her against the wall.

"Mum! You can't do that. You can treat me like that I'm your son but you will not treat other people's kids like that"

"Put me down you insolent little brat. You idiotic boy. Like I'm going to listen to you!" She sneers but she's not finished.

"Stupid seam rat had it coming" Peeta looks her directly in the eyes and his muscular arms flex around her – I wonder if they're warm – hang on, weird thought there Katniss don't go there.

"You will listen to me, you can't treat people like that and who the hell cares if they're from the fucking seam? Still a person aren't they?" It's the first time I've heard him curse. Mrs Mellark looks like she's about to hit him again until she sees him for who he actually is – a big, strong 17year old who looks like he could crush her with one arm and she seems to change her mind.

"Don't even bother coming home. You're not my son anymore" she snarls this to shocked gasps.

Peeta releases her, his (admittedly) brilliant blue eyes pouring into her navy ice and calmly says "You've never been my mother"

At this Henrietta storms out of the house followed by some shocked looking Mellarks and it hits me. Peeta is homeless. All because he wanted to defend a random kid he'd never met in his life – ok one who admittedly tried to save him but still half the merchants would have been cheering her on.

"Peeta, mate I never wanted you to get kicked out" Rory awkwardly mumbles when he manages to pry Prim off him and Hazelle has released Peeta.

"I wouldn't be here to get kicked out if it wasn't for you – she can't treat people like that. To be perfectly honest I'm glad to be rid of her – being homeless is preferable to taking her shit"

Ok now I'm confused – "Why didn't you leave before then?" I question.

"She'd just drag me back – there's no point"

Posy runs forward and attaches herself to Peeta's ankle "Where will you stay pweeta? Pwease stay with us!" Her entire face lights up at this statement.

That's actually a very good question. I look around the ice white walls of Madge's house and shuffle uncomfortably on the sleek hot pink sofa – the décor is so.. not Madge. It's the permanent state of messiness, random intricately drawn paintings (which from sitting next to her in art class I know is defiantly not her handiwork) and pictures – everywhere that leaves a distinct sense of Madge. From the shoes casually kicked in the corner which I notice Hazelle keeps glancing at to the beautiful picture of her that looks like it was done when she wasn't looking – in it she's laughing uncontrollably, her face distorted with happiness. It's then I notice the signature 'P. Mellark' I guess there's lots of things I don't know about the boy with the bread.

"He'll stay with me" A gruff voice bellows. In comes an annoyed looking Haymitch who's dragging an embarrassed looking Madge behind him. The girl in question is immediately swept into Gale's arms and sat upon his lap – right next to me (great).

"I need someone to get me up in the morning, look after the house, cook and put up with my shit – if you can handle that and in exchange I'll put up with you Mr Optimistic about bloody everything and give you a small wage alright?"

"Yeah sure – thank you Haymitch"

"Don't thank me thank little miss hysterical blonde who knew you'd get kicked out before your bitch of a mother did – it's actually effing creepy"

He then flashed me a smile which made me go slightly weak at the knees – which is weird.

Good things can only come from this. Right?

**There it is! Sorry again for not updating in a while! Hopefully this extra long chapter makes up for it. Please leave some constructive feedback in the reviews and thanks for reading and thank you to everyone who's reviewed already and favourite this and added this to story alerts! Whenever I see I have a knew one I start grinning like a mad woman and my friends/family now think I'm insane(not the good kind). Thanks again! P.s. Do you like where I'm going with the characters? Any suggestions for making them more true to story – although as a Gadge fanfic strictly no Katniss/Gale no offence to shippers but I don't like them Also reaping soon! And in a few chapters there will be some Fannie! Everyone love a bit of Fannie ;) – that sounds wrong…**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! Here's a little fluffy chapter I did for Fathers day – no actual importance you can skip this if you want but I feel like it helps you to understand more about Madge's relationship with her Father which I haven't touched upon yet.**

**Madge POV**

I stand in the flower shop staring at the produce. Every petal a uniform length. Perfect, to be expected. Each flower trimmed and styled to ensure it's their definition of beautiful. They remind me too much of the Capitol and not enough of my Father.

The Capitol – I have to go back there soon. Strange men will touch me with their clammy hands that stink of expensive liquor – rewarding my sponsor's for they're 'kindness'. When I see a white rose I almost have a panic attack. Remembering – Snow god that was the worst one, when he told me he'd had his eye on me for years at Father's dinners I almost threw up. The sick minded pervert.

Later I walk to my Father's makeshift grave in the woods. Seeing as he was executed for treason it was a treasonous offence to give him a funeral – so I gave him my own when I got back.

Almost there in the gorgeous little clearing I found. A bunch of flowers in my hand – not boring generic flower shop ones but bright, beautiful and unique wild flowers. These describe my Father more. He wasn't the typical Mayor everyone expected. He was humble and kind and he loved his family fiercely. He loved Mother so much that it didn't matter to him that she was bedridden with disease and confused. Unconditional love as pure as a new-born. He was the only one who could drag Mother out of her mind on bad days. They would sit and play cards – that simple gesture meant the world to her. I would play the piano and attempt to teach Maya the piano and they would play cards.

I lived for those days.

Father. He wasn't around much. Once I ran away for three days without his notice but he hadn't a choice. He had a quick temper and was incredibly obstinate. Ridiculously actually. Also he was completely petrifying. Let's just there was no quest as to why he was Mayor – he could just intimidate the decision makers in the Capitol to appoint him.

He also taught me to play the piano. Willingly sat through tons a go-awful cakes and inedible biscuits when Maya was teaching me to cook. Ran his hand through my hair and squeezed my hand at every reaping.

Seeing as I took care of Mother I have always been a Daddy's girl. We were very close when I was younger but as my (delightful) teenage hormones kicked in we drifted further and further apart. God I wish we hadn't. So many wasted opportunities. All that time gone and we will never get it back. As soon as I reach the grave it hits me.

I'll never see him again.

I wait for tears to come but they don't. I will not let them. He always told me how much he hated watching me cry – he could want me to be strong.

Don't worry Daddy I will be strong.

**Two updates in a day yes fam! I'm sorry if this is crap - don't hate me! I just really felt like writing this!**

**Bye everyone xxx**


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm back bitches.**

**Madge POV**

I feel it. I feel myself curl into a ball and waste the days away. Drifting further and further into insanity as the inevitable day looms, the problem with insanity is that it's like quicksand when you get sucked in its almost impossible to come back out – you cannot do it on your own – help is needed preferably a person. I am the opposite of a flower.

Spring is the time of rebirth, new life and shedding past struggles and starting anew. It is the time for birdsong, flowers in every shade imaginable and the beginnings of sunlight.

That's why it's ironic that the reaping is positioned right in the heart of it.

These months since that fateful meeting has been – testing. I'll come out and say it – whether it's been the water or the sense of impending doom. Love is in the air.

Example what I think is the sweetest couple of all – Rory and Prim. I think only me, Hazelle and Peeta actually know. Gale and Katniss are plain oblivious to everything unless it's furry and edible and Haymitch and Ms. Everdeen are otherwise distracted. As in Haymitch is now almost constantly intoxicated and Ms. Everdeen has been getting lots of work recently with the melting snow on the ground making everything much more slippery.

Today I woke up to find some freshly baked cheese buns on the kitchen counter (after finding out that they're Katniss' favourite he's been baking them by the truckload) and a handsome, silver-eyed miner leaning against the counter sipping from the only mug he will willingly drink from (obstinate sod), wearing the pair a dirty pyjama pants that always seem to find themselves spending more time on my floor than anywhere else.

"You look great but I bet those clothes would look even better on the floor" He says with a cheesy smile and flirty wink – have to admit the boys got guts.

"Say that again and I'll ensure that the floor will never feel these clothes again"

He shuts up immediately. Then proceeds to make breakfast? What? And he's made me tea and he hasn't mocked by bed hair… Well he gave it to me.

"What did you do? Why are you doing all these nice things?"

Can't I be considerate for once?"

"You're Gale"

"And that means"

"You are Gale Hawthorne"

Then it hits me. As the realisation sets in my overly bright little kitchen becomes very small, the walls closing in threatening to engulf me.

Today is the reaping.

Today two of my friends will be fighting for their lives and I'll be… In the Capitol.

**Katniss POV**

The sun is blinding as the Capitol woman with spring green hair takes a sample of my blood, the birds song which normally calms me sounds daunting and dramatic – as if even birds can sense what terrors await.

My mother's pale blue dress feels soft as my shaking hands smooth it over my legs – at this rate I'll have to get Prim to braid my hair for me. The mirror shows my long dark hair, wide slate grey eyes and smooth olive skin tinged grey from lack of sleep. When I was a little girl I used to pull on my hair as if it would magically turn blonde and wavy by sheer willpower alone. My father would see me stare wistfully at merchant girls and say "Katniss, you are my little angel of the night" From then on I would see things differently, comparing blonde, pale merchants to day whilst the dark seam girls to night.

I think night is the right word for me. Night is a different, quiet beauty compared to day that few get to truly experience. They might take a brief fling whilst intoxicated but few truly get to experience and appreciate the subtly which is night. They are in perfect balance.

My mind goes to one of my favourite topics of the moment. Peeta Mellark.

What does he want from us? When he started talking to me in that awkward encounter at Madge's I was actually slightly glad, maybe I could find out how to repay him for the bread all those years ago and then he had to go and save Rory from his witch of a mother.

I'll never forget that. How his piercing blue eyes filled with anger, his muscles rippling as he pulled her off of him, the empty look on his face when his family abandoned him. He's good with Haymitch – who even though he will not admit it secretly loves him and Madge. Its no secret that he adores Prim, Posy and Vick though (Apparently he doesn't like pubescent boys "to horny (glares at Gale who at the time had Madge on his lap)" – I don't think Rory minds too much).

Peeta Mellark. The name makes my stomach feel funny – I'm probably just hungry. He is so frustrating! He just does things; little things like bake my favourite bread and not expect proper payment! Nothing in life is free but he will not expect anything and it pisses me off! Kindness just comes naturally to him.

"Katniss your mom says to come downstairs" I jump at the sound of his voice – could he have known I was thinking about him?

Spinning on my heel I find him and his amazing blue eyes slightly widened. Grey and blue meeting and I immediately feel self-conscious about my boring grey eyes.

"Why didn't you ever fight back before?" – Where did that comes from. From the confused look on his face I don't think he was expecting that either.

"Could you hit your mom? Come on"

**Peeta POV**

Wow. She looks so beautiful with her hair down. When she looked at me with her bewildering grey eyes I almost forgot how to speak. I feel so self-conscious about my eyes. How stupid and such a childish blue colour they are when compared to her majestic silver. Mine simply can't compare.

She reminds me of a baby deer the way she gracefully walks towards me – apprehension all over her face. I know she hates me for intruding. I try to make it up to her by baking her favourites but that just makes it worse. Occasionally I wish that she could be one of the idiotic girls in school but then she wouldn't be her.

Everyone's expressions darken as we clasp hands and file out of the door.

Wouldn't want to miss the reaping.

**Dun Dun Duhhhh Reaping next chapter! Sorry if this chapter isn't up to scratch. Tell me what I can work on please Thankyou! Also Shout out to: any1106, busgirl, hanelli, tawmascarinn, tencentblues, kayai1995, highspeed0516, cabooseblueteam, 0realistic-dreamer0, andromachecameron, bloolover, courtneyfan14, headstuckintheclouds, idlevine7191, ladylunariddle, lightinthedark23, nightingale096, rainbowsendingold, readaholic94, silverchicklet, sunshinebear711, thejazzydolphin (that username made me lol :L #prizeforbestusername #nooffenseeveryone), werclub.**

**I think that's everyone who's favourite/reviewed/alerted me. If I've missed you message me and I swear I will favourite you/ alert you whatever your story is about or if you don't have any author favourite/alert you or both.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey Everyone! My story has had over 3000 views! Almost fell out of bed when I saw that! You guys are literally amazing! Probably would've given up ages ago if not for you! **

**Anyways here's the reaping!**

**Katniss POV**

I always hated this dress.

I tend to put strong emotions into my clothes. My hunting jacket, soft leather boots. This dress. For me clothes are memories, if big events have happened in them or they belong to someone you love you remember. You remember the feeling, their laugh, the colour of the sky and the way their eyes lit up around the people they loved.

Clothes tell the story of these times.

So really it's not mystery why I hate my reaping dress.

The heavy, scratchy material is unbearable in the heat. Yes I know – oh its sunny poor you! But it's the bad sunshine. The baking hot kind that makes you what to rub yourself over with ice. The kind that to some is brilliant, exciting and they hate that it doesn't happen many times in the year whilst us mortals are slowly baking to death, this heat is terrible for us.

I feel so… exposed when I'm not one in a sea of thousands but one in about twenty and I'm partly willing my name to be on that scrap of paper when it could be someone whose safety I put above my own.

I feel someone squeeze my hand and look at Peeta Mellark, understanding written all over his handsome face – I mean that yes he's handsome… just not my type. He runs a large hand through his wavy blonde hair and after fixing them on me sets his bright blue eyes on the crowd.

I see him share a grimace with a pretty blonde girl and something twists in my stomach, but I push that feeling down as Effie starts to speak.

Her annual un-empathetic speech seems a little fake this year, her smile more forced. Her gestures overly flamboyant in that way where they cannot be natural and her eyes keep drifting to Madge as if she's actually worried about something other than her ridiculous lime green hair(the new 'it' colour according to Madge). Maybe she isn't so bad.

Her long scarlet nails dip into the reaping bowl with significantly less slips of paper than normally. Not as much as you'd expect seeing as adults who had to take out teressae during their reaping years get the same amount only over the age they are. Hazelle comes from a family of six and is forty years old so I dread to think of her odds.

Her deathly pale fingers curl around a scrap of paper and pull it agonisingly slowly out of the reaping ball.

Her artificially blue eyes widen slightly as my mouth drops open as she reads out the girl tribute.

It's Henrietta Mellark.

**Peeta POV**

Effie's words are imprinted in my mind, replaying over and over again. My mom. I haven't spoken to her since that night at Madge's but how I regret it now. She may have not been the ideal mom but she's my only mom and the only one I will ever have.

She's shaking as she walks up to the stage. No one makes a sound because we're all thinking the same thing. We're glad it's her. We all think this and sentence ourselves to hell just from the common thought.

Of course she still takes the time to glare at me. Thanks mom.

I look into the crowd and find Delly. She gives me a compassionate look and a small smile. Sometimes I'm glad I'm friends with Delly.

I turn around and find that Katniss has been staring at our silent interaction. A pained look on her face.

Katniss. Her face is completely unusual. Its defiantly not completely beautiful. She's quite pretty but mostly plain. It's just she has this effect – there are no words to describe it that just draws you in and distracts you from her plain(ish) face.

I run a hand through my hair again. A nervous habit - Rye once threatened to cut my arm off. It wouldn't have been threatening if he wasn't sharpening the bread knives at the time.

I barely notice Effie draw out another name.

**Madge POV**

Effie's clear voice warped with her high-pitched capitol accent calls out.

"Rory Hawthorne"

As he makes his way up to the platform everything goes to the dogs. Gale looks like he's been stabbed, his mouth forming silent words, Vick is crying into his shoulder. Hazelle looks shell shocked and sweet little Posy doesn't quite know what's going on.

Nothing compares to Prim. She is hysterical, screaming, crying. When she finally claws (literally) her way out of Katniss' arms she runs up onto the stage and kisses him full on the mouth. No-one had the heart to stop them so they continue for a minute or so before Rory pushes Prim off of him, whispers in her ear and forces her down the stairs.

It's truly awful.

Henrietta actually wipes her hand on her skirt after she shakes hands with him. The fucking bitch, a fourteen year old kid gets forced into the Hunger Games and all she gives a shit about is that he's from the seam. The ignorant idiot.

I don't hear the rest of Effie's speech, I'm too busy staring at Gale. His face contorted in pain. Everything is silent as if even nature knows how terrible today is. The sun still shines with fucking annoying optimism.

I squeeze Rory's hand in an (hopefully) reassuring way as we are lead out. When in the justice building I hear the news. No goodbyes. Evil. Cruel. Inhumane. Fucking bastards. Really? Send a fourteen year old kid to his probable death and not even let him say goodbye to his mom. This is a new low.

I drop them off with Effie and go to sort out some papers that apparently need filling out. Screw that.

Suddenly a hand grabs my wrist and pulls me into small room with a deep red velvet sofa and cream walls. I'm about to scream and kick this guy or masculine woman in the balls when I crash into a very familiar chest and smell the comforting smell of smoke and pine. Gale. I find the light and he looks like he's fuming.

"How fucking dare they, those slimy son of a bitches. Take my fucking fourteen year old brother and not even let me say goodbye. Those…"

It drifts off into an intelligible mumble of (most likely) curses and insults. While he does this I hold him close – relishing the feel of his body flush against mine. When soon it will be some greasy stranger who smells of artificial flowers.

He seems to understand as he gazes down at me with his deep grey eyes and our lips meet. It isn't soft, isn't romantic. It is desperate, animalistic. He bites my lower lip and my knees give out. He laughs quickly against my lips when he realises that in the space of ten seconds he has me in this state.

I get him back by jumping up and wrapping my legs around his waist, making sure to rub against his hard dick. He groans and everything's a blur from then on. Our tongues fight for dominance and somehow we both manage to become half naked. Then we're lying on the small velvet sofa with me straddling his waist. Hands everywhere. Gasping breaths and deep moans that will earn me plenty of innuendos and snickers from Rory and Haymitch later.

We both some up for air breathing heavily. His black hair is a mess, his lips swollen, muscular chest heaving and his eyes are almost black with desire. I take the time to check out his muscular arms and firm abs from the heavy work in the mines and years of hunting. I see him do the same to me and feel myself immediately turn red. Which he snorts at by the way. Without that annoying-as-fuck-but-weirdly-loveable prep team I'm nothing special but being with him always makes me feel beautiful.

I turn around and he wraps his arms around me. I don't know how long we stay there, half naked and just holding each over. Occasionally he'll kiss my neck or I'll shift and hear a sharp intake of breath behind my ear but mostly we just say there in quiet companionship.

You may think I'm strange but I think times like those are the most romantic moments.

When the inevitable end arrives (Well Haymitch thumping the door and not so romantically yelling at us to put some clothes on and stop humping each over – mood kill much) We get up and put our clothes back on and I pull his handsome face down into another kiss. This kiss is definatly passionate but not filled with lust. This is sweet and romantic, this is how he wants me to remember him whilst I'm trapped in the godforsaken Capitol. It works.

Until Haymitch starts hollering again and we break apart. Gale looks pretty pissed off and mumbles something about an irritating cock block.

"Goodbye Gale"

He caresses my face "God you're so beautiful, goodbye Madge"

Hands clasped together we turn the doorknob and part ways. Both of us glancing over our shoulder at the other as we head on out to our own private hells.

"Did eyebrows strike some diamonds?"

"Fuck you Haymitch"

**There was the reaping! Did anyone guess who was going in? It will start to get darker after this as Madge is forced back into the Capitols clutches and… let's just say Prim gets very OOC. BTW when I get around to writing that chapter no angry reviews over Prim's OOC-yness. I always found the Prim character boring as she just seems too perfect so yeah. Hope you enjoyed it. Please review with writing tips and can someone please explain how you get a beta? Thankyou **


	7. Chapter 7

**Prim POV**

I run. Run to that secret lake right at the bottom of meadow he would take me to. Push my way through the concealing bushes. Not caring – scratch that relishing the pain and the relief it gives me. I collapse onto the ground and just hold myself, trying to piece back together what broke in the space of a millisecond. Actually lots of them: when they called his name, when he had to push me away, not even being able to say goodbye.

The only thing I have left of his is the feeling of his lips on mine. Then there's this place, our little secret… actually we have lots of little secrets since we were about thirteen and puberty kicked in.

Katniss would probably shoot him.

Looks like someone's going to do it for her.

I don't cry. Once I fell and cut my knee when we were walking and it hurt so bad I cried. He told me it was the worst sound in the world so I stopped crying.

Birdsong surrounds me. The happy tune fills the air, chirping and chirping and chirping until I can't take it any longer.

"Shut the flip up!"

Nothing deserves to be this happy if he dies.

An image comes to mind of a cute black haired boy, childishly teasing me about my inability to swear. Whilst flicking my blonde braids – just because I don't like it.

"Aww Prim you're so innocent! You do know you won't melt don't you?"

I rebelliously lean in and kiss him on the cheek, lingering for about a second.

"Told you I'm not innocent!"

Hey we were like twelve, thirteen? And we weren't even dating yet! A kiss on the cheek is practically slutty. I smile at the memory before quickly correcting myself.

I have nothing left to smile about.

I need an escape or these emotions and feelings are just going to swallow me whole. Alone. I'm so alone. Rory is gone. Mom is mom. Katniss has Peeta even if she doesn't know it yet. No one is left to give a shit.

I remember another night, non-stop giggling. When we stole a bottle of Haymitch's white liquor and headed down here again. We both managed one sip before spitting it out and declaring it the most disgusting drink known to man and throwing it in a bush.

I go to that same bush and pull out a mostly full bottle of white liquor. Now I relish the burn. It distracts me from worse pains that don't go away after a few sips and definitely don't leave me feeling so, so – giddy? Is that a word? My pains will never simply go away, the only thing I can do is try to forget.

Most of a bottle later - I still don't feel what I need to. I'm so numb. So numb I barely remember what drove me to this. Barely, unfortunately is not good enough. I can't feel, I am half a person, lost what makes me whole. Is my Dad not good enough so they have to take Rory to? What the fuck did I do?

Inspiration suddenly comes to mind. That relief I felt running through the bushes. Relief. Perfect. Instead of insulting the time we had together and forgetting I can relieve the pain. Pain the opposite of numb. Black, the opposite of blond; olive the opposite of snow; dark grey the opposite of almost translucent blue; strong the opposite of weak.

The sharp rock in my hand slices into my hip and I feel it. Relief but so much stronger. I feel pain but pain is good. As long as I feel something. I know this is wrong but everything is wrong. Our world is full of sick, sadistic bastards who use those they deem below themselves for money, power and sex. Relief in any way, shape or form is a godsend so why not fucking enjoy it.

My hand seeks the throbbing cut and comes back scarlet. I curl up into a ball and allow sleep to takeover.

Is it possible that I feel even number than before?

**I decided against making this multi-chapter. I want everyone to know that if you ever experience the urge to hurt yourselves please seek help. So Prim is depressed. Hate me if you must but I always thought that there was something going on beneath the surface of Prim. I mean no one can be that perfect! Hope you enjoyed anyways**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey everyone sorry I've been away. My laptop's battery is basically shit and I get my cord from a questionable little shop in town for about £20 so it broke (still getting it from the same place like I'm paying like £40 for a laptop cord) (can you tell I live in Stoke :L)**

**Madge POV**

Awkward. That's the only way to describe dinner. Mrs Mellark being the obstinate woman she is still refuses to talk to a soul and Rory looks like a drowned puppy.

Until that is he snaps.

"Hey Madge"

"Yeah?"

"Aren't you supposed to be giving us you know – life saving advice. Kind of important."

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit"

"Madge. Advice now!"

I share a look with Haymitch and immediately know exactly what to do. He told me that apparently he's been doing that trick for years and I'm the only tribute who ever attacked him. He was thrilled. Twisted man.

I say "stay alive" but in my head I'm screaming for Rory to catch on.

"What the hell is that Madge?" Yes he's screaming at me! See what I mean – twisted.

"I thought that you'd want to look after us but instead what is that?" Come on Rory the knife's right there!

"Stay Alive" he mimics in a high pitched voice – intended to be mine "God what use is that"

"You asked for advice, you never asked for good advice" That made him mad and...

He practically growls in frustration as the knife flings in my direction – he's got great aim. I have to hit the floor in order to you know not die at the hands of a fourteen year old boy.

I stand up and study the knife that has lodged into the wine coloured walls – exactly where my head would be.

"Excellent, just excellent. Now when you get into the arena if either of you dare to go into the cornucopia I swear I will kill you both myself; when you're on that metal circle look around to see if there are many backpacks close to you – if not forget it; first thing is you need to find water or you'll be dead in days; then shelter – don't make it obvious, go for a concealed cave or up in the trees; another thing when in training learn to climb it could be the difference between life and death; Don't make alliances with careers; you will have to take weapons from dead bodies so be prepared for that – Rory you're obviously good with knives anything else? Also Henrietta if you don't actually talk to me there's nothing I can do for you"

Rory and Henrietta just look at me in shock – it gets kind of creepy so my vision drops to the deep mahogany table laden with all kinds of delicious, expensive food.

"Well I have good aim, Gale taught me a few basic snares and I can already climb trees" He said the last part a little proudly which made me smile. God I wish he could remain in his little bubble of childish innocence forever but the Hunger Games tends to age you twenty or so years.

"I can handle a knife" a proud voice rings across the table. We all know that.

"Great now neither of you go near anything you're good at during training, look at survival stuff – specifically poisonous plants, knot tying and a great new one – basic medicine. (Henrietta snorts and I glare at her) That knowledge can be the difference between life and death – a knife won't protect you from a poisonous berry"

"I'm starting to see the reason you won the Hunger Games"

"What?"

"You're fucking scary"

Mine, Haymitch's and Rory's laughter almost shakes the cabin and Effie comes running in to find us all hysterical. Not Henrietta. Not even Katniss scowls that much. I think.

After a while we go to watch the reaping and few stand out. For the ones that do stand out the cushy teal sofa – probably the best money can buy – gives little relief. From 1 there's a scrawny guy but a huge – I mean huge girl. Let's just say I don't think she'll be stealing any customers from me anything soon, her black hair is cropped short and veins bulge out of her thick arms; there's a drop dead gorgeous girl from 2 with shoulder length curly white blonde hair and calculating green eyes; a very cute boy from district five with flaming hair and chocolate eyes; from nine there is this tiny scrawny boy about fifteen years old but the only thing that doesn't make me count him out is the inquisitive look in his eyes – his deep brown eyes look like they're staring straight to your soul – he's smart – not to be underestimated that's how the smart ones win – that's how I'm sitting here rather than in the ground. Ten sickens me. The boy is alright – quite big but the girl. She's nine. Nine years old. When she's reaped I can hear her mother's cry – which she'll probably be killed for.

I can't watch anymore. Rory is silent – unmoving as his terrified grey eyes watch his competition. Now he looks so young. Hunched over on the too soft sofa, about to be faced with life altering horrors no one should have to face.

Then why do 24 children face them every year. I quickly total up the numbers in my head 23x74 that is 1,702 children dead and 74 completely and utterly messed up. That leaves 1,774 children reaped since the beginning. Wait I forgot Haymitch and Maysilee's games. Adding on an additional 24 that is 1,798 children reaped and 1,726 dead.

I'm good at maths. It was my tribute talent. They said I should play the piano but the piano is mine. I refuse to let them – the capitol colour the one thing that remains untouched by cruelty in my life.

For some reason I storm into the bar compartment. To predictably find an intoxicated Haymitch perching on the cushioned bar stool. His arm hastily thrown over the heavy wood bar and an half empty glass of wine clutched in his hand.

"Sweetheart get over here" His grumbling sounds surprisingly sober – or am I just used to him? My bare feet walk quickly over the carpeted floor – probably to avoid Haymitch breaking something when he falls off his stool when drunk.

"No not here meet me at that place"

"Make your bloody mind up"

To anyone else his instructions might seem slightly vague but I know exactly where he means and I hope he hasn't had too much to drink or it could have disastrous consequences. What he saved my life, am slightly fond of the big, permanently intoxicated lump.

The wind whips my hair as I walk on the little perch just outside of the kitchen compartment – just where the bugs can't catch you. That's why we cannot say this little meeting place out loud – if the capitol puts something out here without us knowing and catches us victors or no victors we're done for.

"Took you time sweetheart" He grumbles.

"What is it Haymitch?"

"There's something you need to know"

"What?"

"District 13 isn't destroyed"

"How drunk are you?"

"God how the hell does eyebrows put up with you? Let me explain, the bombing was for show, they live underground and they are starting a rebellion and sweetheart for some unknown reason the public like you so…"

"What do I need to do?"

"Huh?"

"So they need me to win over the public right? Ok well when this shit is over I'll need to go to District 13, there's going to need to be propaganda so the people actually know what's going on I have connections in 12 with the mines…"

"Your boyfriend"

"Haymitch I swear to god – anyway yes well Gale can subtly spread the word there – the merchants will be harder but we'll figure something out – Peeta! He knows pretty much everyone and I'm on good terms with a peacekeeper there – Darius and I know that he hates the capitol so he can ward off any bad word"

"That's all well and good but a small mining district can't win over the Capitol even with some military driven madwoman and her district behind them"

Inspiration suddenly strikes "Haymitch as you know I have err regular contact with the other victors (His face takes on a murderous look as even though he'll deny it if you say I know he cares somewhat for me) and I know for a fact that they're all fuming and my customers tell me all sorts of things they shouldn't so I can get some information and so can they"

"Well do it fast then cause if all goes to plan there won't even be a Hunger Games this year, also we have already got the everyone else it's just we thought that you'd be the hardest to win over"

"The Capitol killed my parents, forced me into the Hunger Games, sell my body, force my boyfriend's brother and one of my best friend's mother into the Hunger Games, starve my district, are so fucking cruel – yeah I love the Capitol would rather die than betray them"

"Ain't sarcasm the lowest form of wit sweetheart?"

"Shut up Haymitch".

The train gradually slows to a stop. I glance at the candy coloured metropolis around me and hear the screaming fans.

Welcome to the Capitol.

**Katniss POV**

It's time for the opening ceremonies. Everything feels so cold in the wait, the wind whips my braid around my face – annoyingly so. I glance at the grey screen towering above me – god I hope we have the same stylist. I feel a hand clutch hand and squeeze – Peeta.

Something flutters in my stomach when I see his sad smile and I fight the sudden urge to push back his blonde waves and ensure that the sad look will never appear in those shocking blue orbs again. I need to get away from him.

Letting go I wander to where Gale is slumped on a rock, shove him across a bit and squeeze his hand comfortingly. He frees his other hand and starts making daisy chains with the slightly grey daisy's around the rock. His large hands moving with surprising precision and speed.

I'm so caught up watching this mind-numbing process when I hear the Panem anthem and the Capitol logo. We are in the perfect position, visible enough to watch unquestioned, invisible enough not to be questioned.

Looks like Flickerman's a soft orange this year - I remember a time when me and Peeta were talking about colours and think about how much he'd like the colour. I barely acknowledge his high-pitched Capitol accent squeaking about useless nonsense until the parade starts. Things are pretty much a blur as I'm waiting on edge for District 12.

I vaguely remember something shiny and flamingo pink and I notice Districts 11's costumes that look like deformed cows(the crowd started mooing at them – gotta love the sophisticated humour of the Capitol). Then they come out.

The stylist's – I think Madge called them Cinna and Portia have truly outdone them-selves. When in the darkness Rory just appears to be wearing a plain black tight long-sleeved shirt and pants and Mrs Mellark just seems be wearing a floor-length long sleeved halter neck black dress – her blonde hair swept off her neck. Then the light hits them. That is not any old material – they are wearing diamonds. These diamonds seem altered somehow because as the light hits them they give off countless beams of bright white light which make their faces glow and encompasses the entire venue. They shine like stars in the pitch black night, you can't help but look as they make their way down. Their outfits dazzling and shining with the purest, most beautiful light.

Mrs Mellark still manages to look miserable – the reaction must be so strongly ingrained into her personality it's impossible to let go of – or she's just a miserable witch. Strangely it works. It is the perfect opposite to the winning smile plastered all over Rory's face – which soon turns into laughter as some flowers hit his fellow tribute in the face. The light shines of his teeth. As their carriage rolls past the camera I notice the open back on her dress. Her back is covered in diamonds to. They make it seem like her skin in giving out light – they aren't fire, they are warmth. They are the moon and the stars.

I don't realise how hard Gale has been squeezing my hand before he lets go. I reflexively flex my fingers back and forth and he shoots me what to most people would simply be an apologetic grin but to us means 'I'll let you keep an extra squirrel tomorrow'.

"He has a shot"

I really need to stop talking I realise as Gale immediately crumples and his silver eyes become dead.

"He's fourteen no he doesn't"

"Odair did"

"Yep that's my goal – have my little brother turn into Finnick Odair – Don't you remember what Madge told us?"

"At least he'd still be alive"

"He wouldn't be living"

"What like your girlfriend?"

"Madge is different"

"Of course she is – what would she do if I told her what you said?"

"Rip my balls off"

"I thought that was if you cheated"

"No that's rip my balls off, pulverise them and feed them to me"

"That sounds reasonable" He laughs at this.

"Gale listen"

"What?"

"There's something I need to tell you about Rory's ahem future"

"Yeah"

"Madge told me that if he wins she'll take twice the amount of clients for him"

It seems like everything's silent for a while. The only thing I hear is a black man wearing a sweep of gold eyeliner saying "I got the idea from the fact that if you put enough pressure on coal it turns into diamonds, I feel that with all the pressure put on them to win these games that they will to transform into little diamonds".

When Gale finally opens up his pale pink lips and speaks he says in a strangled whisper "I don't deserve her"

"No Gale no you don't"

It's at that moment we hear the gunshot.

**Hey everyone! Wanted to say thank you for all your kind words and encouragement. Anyway I can't decide what I want to do with Rory. I know what I'm doing with Mrs Mellark but I'm not sure whether or not I should kill him. Anyways thank you for reading this far hope I'm not boring you to tears! P.s. if you actually read this note you're an absolute babe thsnkyou :) xxxxxx**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello my gorgeous readers. New chapter! Hope you enjoy btw I saw in some reviews that I made a mistake on chapter 2. Madge's parents are dead but I'm very forgetful and ridiculously unorganised – Sorry!**

**Katniss POV**

She just sits there. Her flaxen hair once so beautiful – now a tangled mess. I just don't know what to do. Us Everdeen women aren't as strong as we seem. If we give you our hearts, we give you everything, our hearts, our souls, our very being depends on that individuals' safety.

I don't know what to do. What can I say? It hurts to watch the one who you love the most burning and all you can do is watch the flames.

Today she sits in the meadow, I join her the fresh, green grass tickling my thighs. Everything is so beautiful here. I understand why she tortures herself by being somewhere so eternally optimistic and you are stuck in a world full of agonising pain and suffering.

She comes here to remind herself that even in this deep, dark hole she's stuck in somewhere there is light.

So many people think that physical pain is so much worse than emotional pain. These people are naïve. They haven't experienced true emotional pain. A wound might leave a scar but a broken heart never heals.

The heart is like a mirror. Once shattered you can glue the pieces back together but the image will never be the same.

We've done this every day since the reaping. Just sit. I will play with her hair and enjoy the feeling of the spring sun on my face. She will sit and get the peace and intimate contact (although don't worry it's not the same as Rory's – we're not creeps) she craves so desperately.

I've also been avoiding Peeta since the day after the reaping.

It was that dream. That dream which doesn't mean anything – can't mean anything because of what's happened to Prim and Mom – because us naïve Everdeens love with everything we have.

_We were sitting on a flat rock in the woods. We were laughing – about what I have no idea. My mind focuses on certain elements. How his face lights up when he laughs, how his blue eyes sparkle, his lips. I suddenly I can only focus on that one body part right now – ok two but anyway. My mouth waters as he grabs my waist and pulls me flush against him so I can feel his quickened heartbeat and he can feel mine. I straddle his lap and am greeted with a poke in the thigh that was definitely not caused by his finger. I lean in closer and closer and just as we're about to kiss I wake up with the realisation. I really can't face Peeta now. I'm too close one more step and I'm drowning. _

I honestly thought that those dreams would stop the moment I stopped seeing him but instead they increased in intensity. I got much closer to that certain part of his body now but right before I kiss him each time I wake up annoyed at my own disappointment. I sometimes daydream about it in the day to. Which can be at the most inappropriate times – like in the shower for instance.

I'm certain though that the ache it brings in my stomach will be met with only my own fingers.

**Madge POV**

I'm still in the crappy rent by the hour hotel room peeling off the skimpy, leather outfit that the client requested for tonight and packing up the sticky, sweet sauce (tonight's was a real freak). I don't particularly want around double the amount of clients. It's just my desire for Rory to never be in this position or to die on national TV is so loud that the aforementioned desire will never win.

Then there's the fucking rebellion to worry about.

Actually making sure that Rory wins.

Not losing my freaking mind.

Making some time for Gale.

If I get some time might even teach Posy the piano.

.explode. Sorry can't – don't even have enough time to have a mental breakdown.

Breathe. 1 2 3.

Take things step by step.

Shower. I feel so dirty so fucking dirty and used. The hot water streams down and I scrub it all off. Scrub at the blood and the dirt and the hands but it doesn't come off with the sauce. It sticks. Invisible scars are the worst kind. It takes much more than a prep team to scrub them off.

I'm so ugly. I need the only one that always makes me feel beautiful.

**Gale POV**

I wait for the call that surely comes at this time. Every night at eleven o'clock. I look forward to her calls as anytime I get to spend with her or her voice is special in these times. I hate them as it reminds me of what they do.

Mom walks in on me – fists clenched around the table and shakes her head. I know she doesn't approve. If it was up to her I'd find some random girl who doesn't disappear to the Capitol and hasn't killed someone but they still wouldn't be Madge. I could never love them like I do her.

I hate it when she calls herself ugly. She never gets how freaking beautiful she is to me. I mean she's hot on the outside. Greasy Sae actually said "God imagine if you two had babies, we'd have to keep the entire population their age under lock and key" After that I really, really hope we have a family of boys.

Even though I do secretly enjoy braiding Posy's hair.

Anyway she's just so strong and determined and she says whatever's on her mind and she's great with kids and,and,and.

As she would say Mr Cameron failed me.

Mom doesn't really hate her. Under normal circumstances she'd be thrilled. She just doesn't want me getting hurt. Too late for that.

Finally her (She insists that we stay in her house) phone rings and the resulting babble confirms its Madge. In the brief pauses I try the offer some comfort but really I ache to be able to wrap my arms around her properly.

When will this end?

**Sorry I haven't been updating I needed a break from the angst! Also I have a life. I also have a big art project, a history paper and a maths mock. Also revision for mocks that affect Collages. Crap.**

**Anyways hope you enjoyed this I might be going on holiday for a week the day after tomorrow but I'll try to update all my stories before then (Challenge accepted) #allnighter #redbull. **


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry for being away for a while I've have some family problems that I needed to deal with.**

**Katniss**

This isn't just sad anymore. Its full blown depressing.

Do I actually need more evidence on why love is a harmful notion? Love is for the weak and the vunerable. I refuse to be both.

I found the cuts yesterday. How anyone could think that what drives my sweet Prim to hurt herself is a good thing – something to be desired in fact is beyond me.

Then there's Gale. I know it kills him to have to watch his brother handed over to the sick games which almost broke his girlfriend and also to know that there are others hands all over her – albeit without her consent.

Actually I think that's what he hates the most.

I slip (almost) perfectly under the fence, earning a small but painful scratch above my ear.

I tread carefully across the mess of russet, gold and dirt brown rotted leaves covering the floor. The cut above my ear throbbing painfully. So painfully in fact that I accidently slip slightly on some of the wetter leaves. How come I can fall out of the tree and be barely affected – but a tiny cut above my ear I can't deal with?

Rustling. Quick footsteps to light to be human. Nervous tension in the air. Game is close.

My breathing quickens, whole body suddenly rigid, half-hidden behind a tall tree. In the dappled light I just see a grey rabbit – perfect. Breathe. Aim. Set. Release. Huh?

As my arrow is flying directly towards to wide-eyed rabbit it's knocked off course by another – very familiar arrow.

"That was my kill!" I protest as the rabbit scampers of sharply. Lucky to be alive. Annoyed I run over to Gale and playfully hit his strong arm.

"You should have said"

"Because that wouldn't have clued in the rabbit – also I had no idea you were here so... your fault"

"Actually if you look again it isn't" This carries on until we reach our clearing – still having not caught anything. Ok so it doesn't really matter seeing as Madge downright refused to let us go hungry and be forced to hunt. So really we just do this for the fun of it.

"Thank god you have Peeta or you might have to live with Prim for the rest of your life – or Haymitch. Imagine that, you and Haymitch all alone for the rest of your lives" My scowl deepens which from the satisfied smile plastered on his face he realises. Jerk.

Wait what was that first bit?

"I do not 'have' Peeta" my voice sounds rather like when we used to tease Prim when she was five and that coupled with my crossed arms doesn't help with the teasing.

Gale turns to look at me, his grey eyes squinting from the harsh glare of the sun. His shirt got ripped in the woods. Hah.

"You do, you may not realise it yet but that doesn't mean everyone else doesn't" Ok not cool.

"Everyone realises what?" Obviously there is nothing to realise. Apart from the fact that I dream about him. Also daydream. Also whenever he smiles at me or looks at me with those amazing blue eyes I get butterflies. But that doesn't mean anything. It can't.

"That you love him" He says this the way you'd announce that you want a drink "Or near enough anyways"

"I don't love him, I don't love anyone and I never will. You know that. No offense or anything but I just don't see the point" Taking a giant bite of a cheese bun I add "Anyway if I hypothetically speaking just happened to have some feelings for him I wouldn't do anything anyway – hypothetically speaking" Did I say hypothetically too many times? – nahh I only said it twice. Crap.

"Well then you would be a hypothetical idiot" For this I chuck a handful of the grass at him – before remembering that this is all hypothetical. Definitely.

"Katniss, you may think that love is for the weak, that opening yourself to someone else makes you weak but you're wrong Katniss. Love makes us stronger. The strength comes from the bravery it takes to completely give yourself to another, a separate person whose life you would put above your own. It builds bridges, shares out the problems so that they're easier to deal with. A life without love would be a very sad thing. Can you imagine? Being alone forever. No one to help shoulder the struggles and the strains of everyday; no one the hold you and say those empty words we find comfort in. No one. Completely and utterly alone forever. Is that what you want? You've never been in love have you? You do not know how amazing it is, if you truly love the person and you lose them you will always have the memories – sometimes that is almost as good as the real thing. With Peeta, will you please just accept it? The whole lone wolf act is getting annoying, how would you feel if he got tired of waiting for you to sort your head out and found someone else?" I think of how I felt when he looked at that girl during the reaping and realise it would probably kill me "Your face says it all, love is going to end up biting you in the ass soon – you may as well make the bite more pleasurable" Realising what he was hinting at I whack him round the side of the head. Dirty bastard.

"That was unusually deep"

"I have my moments now get your skinny ass to the bakery" No more words needed.

Alright maybe I do have feelings for him. What do I do now?

The tree's tower over me. Once giving me a sense of freedom – they now feel like my prison. I can't keep hiding from my feelings forever. I guess that maybe Gale's right. I swear that if anything goes wrong I'll be out like a shot but if nothing does…

Suddenly I'm picturing a family sitting by a fire. The mother has long black hair secured in a braid and is snuggled against the blonde, muscular father. There two kids play around – a girl with black hair and a boy with blonde. Everyone has bright blue eyes? Then an elderly couple walks in. The woman has straggly grey hair and familiar dark grey eyes, the man has instantly recognisable blue eyes. This could be my future.

The reaping, what about the reaping? Rebellion! Could a rebellion work? Why am I seriously considering rebellion just to ensure that I have a family with Peeta?

Why did I picture our daughter end up with a clone of her father? Ew.

There's only one place to go now.

I run.

**Peeta**

Duh Duh Duh, Dun Duh Duh Duh Duh, Duh Duh Duh Duhh, Duh Duh Duh Duh Duh Duh Duh, D-duh d duh duh duh duh d-duhhh d-d-duhhh.

For some reason I'm singing the tune to an ancient song Dad loves as I ice cookies in the Bakery. Which now that Mother is gone I can finally return to work. Alright yes I love working.

I hear the bell ring signifying a customer, but at half six in the morning it's too early for the bakery to be open. "Sorry we're closed, try again in an hour"

I hear the voice that haunts my dreams and quickly turn to reveal the face that I seriously need to stop staring at.

"I'm not here for bread Peeta" she is breathing heavily – did she run here? Crazy girl.

"What is it you want then? Do you want to trade with my dad – I can go get him for you" like me. Like me. Like me. Like me. Like me. Actually scratch that. Make my politeness make you realise that you are completely in love with me. Yeah cause that'll work. Screw it. Love me. Love me. Love me. Love me.

She stands still looking very awkward and as if this is the last place she wants to be. Her gaze keeps drifting towards the window as if she's planning an insane escape plan – or suicide. Can you die from falling two feet? Shut up brain.

"Umm I err" Her delicate but deadly hands finger the end of her perfect braid, made from her perfect hair, leading to her perfect face, covering her perfect skull, protecting her perfect brain. Shut the fuck up.

She looks so dazed for a second I wonder if I've been saying my insane inner monologue out loud but from the lack of running away screaming I'm guessing she didn't.

"I think I love you" That was unexpected.

"Katniss you're so perfect. I love you to"

We stand. Definitely not like two people in love. More like an awkward first date. Her eyes on mine are suddenly so intense I find myself finding new interest in our wooden floor.

After what feels like five years I finally look up again to find her gaze drifting over my body. I'm being checked out by Katniss Everdeen. I swear I need a medal for this or something.

Might as well go for gold.

"Katniss?" Her name comes out like a question and she startles.

"Can I kiss you?" her head dips downwards in a small nod and suddenly the space between us seems tiny – but tiny doesn't quite do it for me.

In a few seconds I've crossed over the room and have her small frame held flush against mine.

My only thought as I dip down to reach her sweet lips is 'Hey, inner monologues actually work'.

**Gale**

"You'll never guess what I saw coming home today!"

"What?"

"Katniss and Peeta in the bakery making out"

Madge squeals down the phone and says what I think is "Finally". I can picture her jumping up and down in her room like she always does when she's excited and smile at the wall.

Time to get serious. "How's Rory doing?"

"He's alright but I'm worried"

"Why, what happened? Did he get hurt? Madge what the hell happened?" Hearing my words and my alarmed tone Mom comes racing out of the kitchen – even more desperate than me to find out what's wrong.

"He joined the careers"

"What? That's good isn't it? Careers mostly win don't they?"

"Gale I'm worried, most of them are huge – could snap his neck without flinching and the district two girl never misses her target"

"So are you saying that my brothers going to die?"

"No I'm saying…"

"What you're saying is that he has no chance"

"Gale if you would listen"

"Listen to what? You completely giving up on my little brother? He's not helpless – not like you"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"We both know that if Aaron wasn't in love with you you'd be dead right now and Rory wouldn't be there"

"Are you saying you wish I was dead?" she growls this and I smack my hands on the wall. Scaring the crap outta Mom.

"Of course I'm not – don't be stupid"

"You said exactly that and I'm not stupid! Can you please stop insulting me for two seconds?"

"What so that you can cry and whine about how fucking terrible your life is? If I insult you so much and cause you so much pain then why on earth are you with me"

"You know what gale? Right now I have no idea" Ignoring that stabbing pain in my stomach those four words cause I continue.

"Well that's that then"

"It"

"Gale, stop being so melodramatic"

"Well you sure can list things you hate about me"

"Gale please calm down – please"

"Just leave me alone Madge" There's silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds before she replies "Goodbye Gale" with too much emotion to be until tomorrow.

"No Madge wait I…" the line is cut off before I can say 'love you'.

A life without Madge. A life without her. A life without the sun.

All that's left is darkness.

**Anyone's POV **

Peeta and Katniss giddily run towards to the meadow – a basket packed with bread and contented smiles on their faces. Until they reach a heartbroken Gale.

How can one day be the best day of their lives for some, the worst for others?

**Please don't hate me! Their relationship needed some ups and downs.** **No relationship is perfect. Also sorry if I slightly tweaked Katniss' personality to fit my needs – but I really felt like I needed some peeniss! (that's what she said). Also sorry for not having much Hunger Games-ness in here atm. There's interviews soon so it will pick up and anyways I'm focusing more on the characters than the games. **

**BTW can anyone guess what Peeta was singing?**

**Awkwardly long Author note done and dusted. Bye x**


	11. Chapter 11

**Arghh the angst**

**Madge**

I crumple to the ground. Perhaps not seeing the phone smash on the ground, perhaps not hearing the crash.

Definitely not caring.

. . . I am the biggest idiot in the world. It was an overreaction right? Easily fixed – If I had a phone.

Shit.

I may be in a building full of people but without him I feel so alone. I need him to survive the ordeal my life has become.

To stop me from returning to the mess I was almost a year ago.

Now there is no one.

He must hate me so much. That knowledge hurts way more than any physical pain. He hates me.

Love of my life and he probably hates my very being. He's probably laughing right now, chortling with some girl way more gorgeous than me saying how he doesn't care at all. He's probably with some ridiculously beautiful, normal girl, someone who isn't broken, someone who doesn't call in at night in hysterics, someone who can be his and only his. Someone he deserves.

It may be incredibly selfish of me and incredibly stupid but just the thought of him with this imaginary girl almost kills me.

Keep your head Madge. You have lives depending on your for their safety.

The prep team raps on my door – I can hear their mindless giggles about some insignificant piece of gossip that they will have forgotten by tomorrow.

Here to take this broken, plain mess and attempt to turn her into a gorgeous, together woman.

An impossible feat if you ask me.

I allow them to drag me into the all-too-familiar white room and force me into the chair whilst they resume their usual torture.

After I resemble a ready-to-cook chicken more than a person they lead me to Cinna. I've missed him.

Cinna looks pretty much the same with his slick of gold eyeliner and short hair. He has a forest green t-shirt on today though.

We embrace and he swings me around the black room.

"Hey Madge!" His voice has the same easy tone to it and seems to melt like butter. He makes me forget about Gale for a while and focus on getting either his brother or Peeta's mom home. Then there's the rebellion.

"What's wrong Midge (he gave me this nickname as apparently its short for midget –thanks)"

I absentmindedly play with my fingers as I force out the words "Me and Gale broke up".

He sweeps me into another bone-crushing hug at the word 'broke' "Aww Midge – you know what we need to do now don't you?"

He must see my questioning look as I have no idea.

"Make him eat his heart out" As he says this he pulls out a gorgeous dress. It's almost the exact same blue as my eyes and looks very short. The bodice is tight with thick straps and stops just above my breasts and the skirt flows out.

When I slip it on the material feels like butter against my skin, it smells fake scented bluebells.

Cinna sits me down in the makeup chair and does his magic.

Just to annoy me he decides to cover up the mirror until the – as he calls it – 'final unveil.

The powder makes me sneeze.

I stand there not knowing exactly what to do in the seconds before he lifts the curtain. He just grins as he whips it off in a move a magician would be proud of.

I do look great. The blue dress shows off by curves all while bringing out the blue of my eyes. My eyes are surrounded in black eyeliner and lashings of mascara. My cheeks are brushed with a golden-peach colour which adds life to my pale skin and my lips are brought out with red lipstick. My hair is loose and flowing around my shoulders and the black heels elongate my legs.

It doesn't feel right. My heels pinch uncomfortably at the toes, I have to keep pulling down my dress in order for it to appear decent, there's eyeliner in my eye. This outfit isn't me. I should be used to this by now – it's the fucking capitol for pete's sake but.

I hate it.

Cinna shoots me a pitying look at my obvious discomfort and his arm finds its way around my shoulders.

Too thin to be the arm I crave but comforting all the same. My head falls onto his warm velvet coated shoulder. My arm around his waist. We stand in silence. Words aren't needed to get across our message, a team, comrades, together. The simple comfort of human touch.

All too fast it's time to get out there and I bite my nails nervously remembering the disasterous prepping the day before.

The nail varnish tastes disgusting.

Rory what can we portray him as? Too young to be sexy. Not funny enough to be funny. Not charming enough. Not threatening enough. Not blood-thirsty enough. Not innocent enough. He is that annoying medium. Not innocent but not threatening, not boring but not funny, not rude but not charming. By the end we decide to show him as a hardworking family man. Quick decision before I hit him for being so – middle-y.

Henrietta was easy. Bitch.

My feet pound against the painted white floor, black shoes becoming slightly scuffed. I only stop when Johanna puts what appears to the audience and cameras as a comforting hand on my knee.

Only I can feel her nails digging in.

Ceaser is mustard yellow this year. Sort of makes him look severely ill. His powdery white skin looking grey in comparison to the ugly mustard of his hair and eyebrows.

He sits on a psychedelic chair that gives you a headache if you stare to intensely. Unfortunately it's so bright you can't help but look at it.

A vicious cycle.

Something feels wrong. Flickerman's eyes are darting everywhere as if looking for an escape route. Johanna, Finnick and some other victors from underlying districts (Finnick obviously being the exception) seem on edge.

Something's about to happen.

"To kick us off hereee's Princess from District One" I snort and hear others around me follow suit. What kind of name is Princess? I know its District One but come on.

I snicker more when she comes out. She is massive. Blue veins bulge out of her thick neck and strong arms. Her legs resemble tree trunks and she has a bigger chest than most of the boys. Her jaw length white blonde bob doesn't really help nor do her small deep-set forest green eyes. When she looks at me I feel like I've been gutted already. Shit she's going in with Rory. Err and Henrietta.

Princess ain't no princess.

She scowls at the crowd – looking like she wants to EAT some of them. I'm not surprised that Ceaser looks alarmed. I hear Haymitch grumble in the background. Someone in the crowd with neon green hair wipes their nose. The air smells slightly like burnt sugar. Princess' heavy footsteps seem hours apart and ridiculously loud. As if everyone's holding their breath – waiting.

Someone whistles, Johanna's arm twitches annoyingly but everyone's too scared of her to tell her to stop, the wind feels cold against my bare legs. Step. Step. Step.

It happens in a second. One second Princess' found seems to sink into the stage and the next there is a loud sound and a liquid that tastes disturbingly like blood covers me. Sparks fly through the air, fire ravages the stage. Strong arms grab me and pull me harshly across. The thick smoke is too disorientating to know which direction.

I could be heading upwards to the blinking moon for all I know. Or care.

I feel my body get kicked and fall off what must be that white painted stage – its black now. Well what's left.

The air is slightly clearer down here and all I can see is a large man with a black ski mask obscuring his face. No recognition.

I'm going to die.

The last thing I do before the blackness overcomes me seems to be a reflex. As if my feelings are so deeply engrained that in the time where I am so scared. So, so incredibly scared they're the only thing I turn to for some relief.

"I LOVE YOU GALE"

Then I slip into the darkness.

**Gale**

I don't want to.

I don't want to.

I don't want to.

I have to.

I don't want to have to spend hours standing in a crowd watching my brothers final day of safety, watching her.

I don't want to.

I don't want to.

I have to.

I tell Katniss and Peeta this when I find them in the meadow. Not stopping for a second to question the blissful happiness on their faces, why they're together – because I already know and detest them for it.

It is selfish to want to drag them out of euphoria to join hell with me?

Am I being a tad overdramatic?

Probably.

Am I dangerously resembling a fifteen year old girl?

Definitely.

I shrug off Katniss' awkward hand on my shoulder and ask her "Do I have to watch"

Apparently she's over the whole 'feel sorry for Gale' as she says "Gale it's a mandatory viewing – the clues in the name"

"Yeah you really shouldn't talk" She hits me over the head and she hits Peeta to as he snorts. She stuffs herself between us and we chat idly for a few hours as the sky darkens.

Me being generally miserable. Peeta trying to cheer me up. Katniss working hard not to just shoot the both of us – just to shut us up.

Apparently sad people make her feel awkward.

I guess I should be more considerate.

I run my thumb over the slight Goosebumps the chilly wind has given me as I deliberate my options.

Give in and watch my brothers presumably fighting talk (he's always been cocky) the day before he's sent to his and 23 other peoples personal hell and also at the same time watch the girl I'm in love with – who just broke my heart – who will undoubtedly look stunning thanks to the Capitol and generally good genes which will be torture.

Or die.

I'm actually considering this.

Although the latter could be quite hazardous to my health.

Although at this point Option one could result in option two.

Crap.

Anyway after explaining my choices to my extremely frustrated friends they knock some sense into me (literally) and I find myself walking towards my impending emotional doom.

I doubt Katniss and Peeta thought they'd spend today talking their recently heartbroken friend out of suicide.

The weather matches my mood.

I'm standing in a growing puddle as the rain pours down but I really don't have the energy to move.

When the Capitol emblem appears on the screen I almost have a panic attack.

Not interested in the career districts people around me faff about, talking obnoxiously loudly, the richer merchants snacking – completely disregarding the hungry seam faces surrounding them. I hear some random woman complaining about the weather and resist the urge to shush her.

23 people are about to die and all she cares about is that she has to stand in the rain.

It's not cold though, although we are a small district there is still plenty of warm bodies to go around.

Who needs fancy capitol heated floors when you have overcrowding.

The Capitol emblem fades into the same propaganda crap.

Completely objective? Yeah right.

Biased sods.

My eyes are attacked with a multitude of clashing colours as the stage is brought into view.

Ceaser looks ridiculous as per usual. Mustard really?

My eyes quickly avert from Ceaser and one face stands out.

Finnick Odair. No not really Madge.

She does look beautiful but I know my girl. She's uncomfortable. More than usual.

She keeps pulling down her almost indecent dress (not sure whether I mind this or not) or fiddling with her glowing hair or biting her lip and playing with her hands.

Johanna Mason puts an uncharacteristically comforting hand on her knee.

Actually thinking about it everyone looks nervous.

Some victors look like they're planning an escape route – almost bursting out of their seats and their eyes darting in a million directions.

Ceaser's normally confident voice almost wobbles as he introduces the first 'lucky' tribute.

Princess.

For once the district is united by sniggering at the unfitting name. She is for lack of a better word vast.

No one really cares much about her. I do. Prim does. The people who know someone in there does. She looks like she could crush a man in her hand.

My eyes find Madge again. Perhaps searching for a sign – however small. Just a tiny sign that maybe she misses me, regrets breaking up. I don't know anything. Instead I find her watching Princess' footsteps intently, she looks so tense I want to dig my fingers into her back and relieve it all.

Although last time I tried I might have made her cry.

Someone in the crowd coughs. An unusually heavy footstep. The smell of smoke mixes with some form of meat that the butcher is selling at the side. It smells delicious. It smells expensive.

I hear a bang and after throwing myself in front of a terrified Posy I realise it isn't coming from this District. It's coming from the screen.

Madge.

The screen is filled with a thick grey smoke. No give. Apart from the splatters of blood.

Evidently in the Capitol they forgot to turn off the camera – or they wanted us to see this.

Screams are heard from both sides of the screen. The screams of those on the frontline in the Capitol and the screams of those watching. Before I can stop I'm screaming Madge's name. In the corner of the screen I can see the building holding the tributes still standing so assume that Rory is ok.

She can't die. She can't die. She can't die. She can't die. She can't die. She can't die. She can't die. She can't die.

It's so faint I doubt that anyone not straining for any signs of her life would hear it above the chaos but it does more damage to me than that bomb ever could.

"I love you Gale".

She's dead.

**Nothing like a crappy cliffhanger to finish a chapter BTW sorry I have been away a close family member almost died so you know. Actually writing all this fanfiction was a great distraction – they just don't have internet and I kinda can't upload from a phone :L Anyways hope you enjoyed.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Prim**

Silence.

The horror we just watched does not need to be justified by empty words.

They don't provide any relief – describing what just happened won't make it better; it won't make it go away.

It won't bring back Madge.

I glance to my left to see Gale. Sitting on a rock with his head buried in his hands, his coal black hair askew. His demeanour is reminiscent of a school boy who fears he'll never see his parents again. No hope. Maybe for him that is true.

At least he's stopped screaming.

Rory. Everyone's saying that he's okay.

I'm praying.

He needs to be ok. I need him to be ok. He has to be ok.

Everyone is so quiet.

Apart from a small child from the seam who doesn't understand what just happened. She still believes in princesses, princes and happily ever after's. She hums an unfamiliar tune under her breath.

The song that normally is probably sweet and comforting sounds eerie - haunting now. Taunting those like me and Gale who are so sad with something light and full of joy.

Rory hated moments like these.

He'd always crack a bad joke that for some reason people would laugh at. He would tell bad jokes up until his last breath.

Which in a perfect world is many decades away.

It's a shame that we don't live in a perfect world.

Madge hated moments like this because it would always bring on an uncontrollable laughing fit.

Seriously, she would get the giggles so bad and eventually everyone would start sniggering with her. Her laugh is-was infectious.

I realise that I've been quietly sniggering when remembering them and people around me are sending me confused looks. Not Gale. I think that he realises what I'm thinking of and accidently barks out a laugh.

Literally he sounds like a dog when he laughs.

So did Rory.

Just the mention of Rory causes my heart to twist from my stomach where it has decided would be a good place to stay.

It isn't.

I trace the harsh brown scabs on my right arm. The cream of my skin emphasizing each jagged cut. How good would it feel for the ugly brown to be replaced by brilliant scarlet? The relief.

Letting out all the deep, dark and dangerous feelings. The smooth blade sliding against my skin.

My thoughts are squashed by something.

A merchant boy who could be no more than six years old sticking three fingers up in the air proudly.

A simple child who probably didn't personally know a single person on that screen is honouring them in the best way we know how.

All the fire in those two people that we lost is reignited by the simple gesture.

Fire spreads quickly.

People follow suit.

Seam, merchant, rich, poor everyone kisses their hand and sticks three fingers in the air proudly.

The whole district stands. United for the first time for years – decades even.

Until the Capitol seal appears and everyone lowers their hands sharpish.

It says so much. How we love, respect and mourn the dead.

How we hate the Capitol.

No one quite knows what to do now.

Continuing with what they were doing seems wrong. Doing something dramatic could be suicidal.

Gradually whispers become louder, the ovens start cooking again, people start to return to their homes and children play tag.

One of them runs straight into me.

Great.

I make my why over to Gale and offer an arm.

Instead he engulfs me in a bone-crushing hug. Ow.

He looks so much like Rory.

Save those thoughts for later, it wouldn't do for Katniss' perfect little Primrose to breakdown in public.

It might be my overactive imagination but a chill runs through the air as Mayor Turnball clumps onto the rickety, wooden stage.

I tuck my blonde hair behind my ears before wincing as his microphone shrieks.

He says in a disturbingly calm voice. "Can the following people follow me: The Hawthornes'', the Everdeens and Peeta Mellark. Thank you loyal citizens of District 12"

A funeral march plays over and over again in my head as I slowly walk across the uneven square towards his face, which is twisted into a sinister grin.

The crowd parts seemingly automatically as our group heads to the stage.

The steps creak as we walk up single file and head behind to the back of the stage to a small door. I do snort when Gale whacks his head on the slightly dirty doorframe.

We're taken down a long boring corridor and told to go through a metal door.

This door has no handle but a weird looking handprint at about eye level. We watch it suspiciously for a few seconds. As if the strange, no-handled door is going to jump out of its frame and attack us.

Which it doesn't. Obviously it's a door – duh.

Gale roughly pushes aside Peeta (he has no patience for nice people above the age of 15 – he thinks it's unnatural) earning a sharp look from Katniss and places his large hand on the door.

Access denied.

Peeta tries.

Access denied.

Everyone has a try but the answer is always the same.

Access denied.

Fab.

If I wasn't fourteen I would kick the door down myself.

Luckily we have a big, angry twenty year old man on our side.

Out of pure frustration Gale punches the door which suddenly jumps to life and springs open.

'Hello Mr Hawthorne and company'.

My stomach hurts from laughing so much that I barely notice being shoved into the adjoining room.

This room has metal walls and soft looking chairs in a shiny, black material, at the far side of the room is a large screen covered in metal – like aluminium curtains and there it another door similar to the one they used as an entrance but I highly doubt you need to hit that one. In the centre of the room is a large sheet of glass held up by two metal stands – one at the bottom connecting to the floor and another at the top connecting to the ceiling and in front of the side closest to us is a matching shiny black chair with its back facing us.

Our feet make annoying clanging sounds as we enter the room. Once we have all crushed through the door slides shut and makes a loud clicking noise.

"Well if it isn't our favourite victor's family and friends" A horribly familiar voice calls out. His rough voice dripping with sarcasm. His words don't really sound right when they're not slurred.

Somehow the chair spins around – probably some complicated technology I won't understand and my suspicions are confirmed when the person in the chair is revealed.

You have got to be kidding me.

His ragged, greasy, black hair almost reaches his shoulders; his olive complexion looks slightly grey and his grey seam eyes are weirdly big and give the same impression that he's reading you like a book.

Not everyone realises but he's clever. He hides it really well.

Haymitch Abernathy grins and rubs his hands together "Alright I'm going to make this quick – If you haven't figured it out yet there is a group of people rebelling against the Capitol and if you're really slow (he says this directly to an angry Gale) that group includes me. Now right now you are on a hovercraft heading to District 13 – oh and by the way District 13 isn't destroyed. Anyway some of you are going to be fighting, some healing, maybe some propaganda work"

What?

Katniss scowls and asks "So we're part of the rebellion just like that? Don't we have a choice" her tone of voice sounds like a threat in itself. Sometimes my sister scares me.

Haymitch just gives her a withering look and replies "Did you hear what I said? Also sorry sweetheart but sometimes we don't get a choice so welcome to the rebellion – try not to get your-self killed"

Katniss places her arm around my shoulders protectively as if that is going to stop Snow and the Capitol.

"I might make a complaint about the service" Peeta whispers in a not-so-quiet voice that's met with around nine sniggers.

"What about Madge and Rory?" Gale almost growls. His body language shows a man who's a threat to everyone near him but his occasionally expressive seam grey eyes betray how heartbroken he actually is.

Haymitch takes a swig out of a metal flask before continuing.

"Blondie's fine, slightly shaken up but not fatally injured"

"And Rory?" Everyone stares at Haymitch for his answer and he actually looks nervous.

He's dead. He's dead. He's dead. He's dead. He's dead.

"You see Snow had plans to assassinate Blondie and was going to do it by removing the force field around the headquarters. You see he knew that for some reason she enjoys jumping on the thing and getting thrown over by the blaming thing onto the roof. So she'd fall to her death and it would be put down to a suicide. The problem is that there is no way of him knowing that without inside knowledge. We believe that Snow brainwashed Rory who is now working for Snow…"

He's working for Snow.

That's my final thought as I pass out.

**Sorry this took so long I decided to have a little break from writing and I have a huge art project, two tests and holidays/activities to do. I literally am barely free. **

**Also has anyone seen the newest spiderman? I saw it and it was freaking awesome. BTW Andrew Garfield is gorgeous and Emma Stone is so cool.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Madge**

Screaming. I scream louder than I've ever screamed before.

Is this hell? The constant everlasting screams. The complete darkness.

Am I even a person anymore? I can see no body, I can see no signs of life, am I a shadow? The dark corner of a room? The monster hidden under your bed?

Pain. Knives slicing into my skin. Carving and morphing me into something unrecognisable, a broken body decorated with a pattern of harsh lines.

Should I be in this much pain when I'm dead?

Is this my punishment? I should have saved them; I should have died in that arena. Clean and pure. Unspoiled and untouched.

Then I would never have met Gale.

His name brings on a flush of memories that I really am not prepared for. His eyes, the way he held me in his arms, that little half-smile he saved just for me, how even though I'm so scarred and flawed he still looks- looked at me like I'm his world.

The sun, moon and stars. He hates me now.

Would he even care that I'm dead? After I dumped him cold. Over the frigging phone as well! Did he laugh at me? Is he with someone else now?

What does it matter I'm dead.

I can't be though. I can't be dead if I feel this much.

I wait. As patient as a skilled hunter waiting for death. Waiting for my parents, Aaron, the aunt I never met to embrace me and welcome me to this new world.

Why isn't it happening yet?

Where is the heaven and hell described in books? Where is the fluffy white clouds? Golden haired angels and huge golden gates. Where is the fire? The red man with horns, the brimstone.

Am I really so terrible that I doomed to spend the rest of my life in this half-between stage. Able to feel and think but dead to the world? I would welcome the sight of hell if it meant that I could see another person.

Obviously heaven would be preferred but beggars can't be choosers.

I wait for what feels like years and years. Trapped in my own head. I can hear muffled voices but I can't see the faces. Who are they? What are they?

Are they simply figments of my imagination trying to calm me down?

The pain isn't there anymore, I miss it. Now I'm numb. Again.

The screams have died down to whimpers. What good does screaming do?

What good does whimpering do?

One day it changes.

The amount of times I try to open my eyes and it doesn't work. It's like I'm conscious but unable to do anything.

Stuck.

Then one day I try to open my eyes again.

It works.

**Gale**

It's been three days now.

A coma the doctors call it. Apparently it's the closest you can get to death without actually dying. As much as that thought scares me it's better than actually dying so I'm all for it.

She doesn't move. They say something about mind consciousness and about a million five syllable words that may as well have been in a different language for all that I can make of them.

Basically she isn't awake so does it really matter why?

I spend all day with her. Ignoring the incessant buzzing coming from my uncomfortable communicuff. Ignoring the sighs from sympathetic nurses. All that matters is that she's alright.

It starts when her fingers twitch slightly, heart rate elevated. In an instant I've alerted the cavalry (well I sent a message out to Katniss and my Mom) and not too long after I'm joined by the Lovebirds, Mom and most of my siblings and Haymitch.

Prim hasn't gotten out of bed yet and Mrs Everdeen forced Katniss out of the house and is taking care of her. She said and I quote "You don't have your bleeding bow now so you can either walk out of this apartment or I can drag you and shut the door."

Katniss chose option 2. Mrs Everdeen is surprisingly strong apparently.

I'll never forgive Rory for doing this to her.

We all surround her bed until it's obvious that nothing else will happen.

False hope.

Well it was obvious until she opened her eyes.

She opened her eyes. They were just how I remembered – no better.

They were the colour of a lake on a clear day. I could stare at them but it might get creepy seeing as she broke up with me.

I might have figured out that I was only forcing myself to like Katniss last year because it was practically being forced on us but I wasn't exactly ecstatic when she never even showed the slightest feelings for me.

Forever friendzoned. Excellent.

"Gale" She whispered. Her voice quiet and scratchy from under-use. I had been sitting next to her bed with my hands fidgeting on my lap and she slowly reached out and squeezed my hand.

She's ok.

There was a faint whisper that sounded suspiciously like Peeta in the background. "What are we chopped liver?" but I didn't care all that mattered is that my girl was safe. Well not safe but not dead yet.

Not dead yet, that's optimistic.

"Hey there are other people in this room you know"

Well sorry that the love of my life almost died.

I should be more considerate.

Madge grabs my forearm and spins me around. Unfortunately I crash into the wall.

Apparently Garnett is a slut.

Good to know the standards of hygiene here.

"We need to talk about Rory".

**More on Rory next time **

**I really hope I didn't offend anyone! I have never been or met anyone in a coma so don't exactly know what it's like but I read a book once (Cool by Michael Morpurgo if you wanted to know – which you probably didn't) where the main character is in a coma and as a professional author not just some 15 year old practising he probably did more research than me (not hard). Anyways that character could hear what was going on so that's what I made happen to Madge. No one's read this far anyway. **

**Tell me about what I can do to make this better Sorry for my normal ridiculous A/N where I ramble about absolute bull. **

**Ok seriously it's ridiculous now bye xx**


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry that I've been neglecting this story! I will try to update sporadically (clueless ftw) but with going on holiday soon and 13 GCSE's to study for and coursework and an attempt at any form of social life. Anyway I hope its ok. It's 1 in the morning. Also can you tell me if its good or not. Some critiques please so that I can work on this and make it as good as possible also if someone could recommend some beta's cause I don't even know where to start looking for one. Sorry too long A/N over.**

**Rory**

I sit in the plush orange velvet armchair. A vast bowl of milk chocolate filled with a sweet, sticky sauce called caramel. I run a hand through my freshly purple hair and sigh.

Why would anyone want to destroy this?

Personally I think that those filthy 'rebels' are ungrateful cowards. Unworthy of the Capitol.

We feed them, give them jobs and a purpose, we provide them with homes and free entertainment. For snow's sake we even give two of them the opportunity of a lifetime each year!

They get to be on TV – the most popular show may I say and if they win they become famous! It just bemuses me, why they feel the need to make things better I'll never understand. I have tried to understand these people – if they can be classed as such – I mean with their complaints, how lazy and ungrateful they are and don't get me started on what they look like.

Brown, seriously?

Why get stuck with brown? When you could be any colour you want. You could have the entire colour wheel on your head and you decide to stick with brown? Boring.

It won't work anyway. The Capitol may be ever so very kind most times, the traitors have lead us to the murder of innocent civilians – which may I add they seem to condone.

If that idiot _girl_ hadn't screwed everything up then everything would be as it was.

How was that again?

Is it strange that my memory stops after this week? Should I go see a doctor?

Should I stop asking myself questions? It's not exactly like I'm going to answer.

Moving on from my incessant inner monologue. Dr Albarn told me that I ask many questions because I don't know the answer.

"_Why do I ask so many questions inside my head?"_

"_Well you see you ask so many questions because you don't know the answer"_

"_No shit Sherlock"_

Well apparently he meant that because I seriously have no idea about my past.

The only thing I can remember is a blurred image of a blonde girl.

My roommate/ pseudo father Craig Madekwe keeps getting messages from some woman named Coin. I keep telling him to bring her over so that I can meet her, but he just says that it isn't how it seems.

She has a stupid name anyway. I bet she has brown hair.

I head to the lime green kitchen and grab a pawpaw (my favourite fruit) and the remaining papers I need to sign before enlisting in the army.

Biting into the delicious fruit I envision myself fighting a bunch of people with boring hair. Victorious and receiving a medal of honour from Snow himself. Fighting for what I believe in is surely a noble death. First class ticket to an outstanding afterlife.

Rebels. Fools. Terrorists.

They build themselves up to be these hidden heroes. Fighting the government with dirty, underhand guerrilla tactics and false words.

Lies.

I already know my first mission. Undercover work. Sourcing out their secrets. Finding the keys to the rebellion.

Everyone who's anyone knows that it isn't just Katniss who is the heart of the rebellion.

She would be nothing without lover boy, her drunkard excuse of a mentor and violent cousin.

Find out what breaks each one of them. Break the mockingjay. Stop the rebellion.

Simple.

**Madge**

"We need to talk about Rory"

How do I portray Rory?

He's evil but he's good. He's yin and yang. Black and white combined to make grey.

His thoughts and actions are as villainous as the ignorant higher powers in the Capitol. Yet they are not of his own. The Capitol forced them into his mind and it sticks. He may look like Rory Hawthorne but he is anything but him. He is a purple haired puppet, the Capitol pulls the strings. A ventriloquist's doll, his words are not his own but scripted. So good an actor not even he knows he's pretending.

Expectant grey and azure orbs are penetrating me. Trying to read my face in order to gage how bad the news is. Trying to read my mind. It's very off-putting.

Here goes nothing.

"Rory. The Capitol has him, during the games Haymitch and I had no idea but they were brainwashing him. They did the final run during the preparation to head onto the stage. Which we only found out when Portia's body was found. If you see him don't think less of him, what he says can't be held against him as they are not his own words. I can assure you that wherever he is he'll be safe – the Capitol needs to keep up the appearance that they are the correct side. Which of course we all know to be pure bullshit but unfortunately he doesn't aaand knowing Rory he probably won't understand without medical treatment (mutters) bloody stubborn (regular) Haymitch knows more, go talk to him."

During my little speech I watch as their faces morph from shock to anger to (in Prim and Hazelle's case) slight amusmant.

Not to self: work on whispering.

I expect an immediate flow of pestering all-exactly-the-same questions about Rory's state, how he is, how I am (only lying in a freaking hospital bed).

Instead Prim rushes out of the door, almost knocking Katniss flying in her quest to find Haymitch and pester him instead. Katniss follows her, a shuffling Peeta in her wake. The Hawthornes look around awkwardly before walking quietly out of the room. Mrs Everdeen never showed.

Gale stays beside my bed. Perched in a too small dull grey chair. His tear streaked face partially hidden in his hands. Devastated.

What seems like hours but really must have been a few minutes pass. Me staring at his sorry state. When he receives had news he tends to crumple. He looks like he's hiding rather than holding himself. As if, if he can't see it then trouble isn't really real. Like when you play hide and seek as a child and quickly bury your face behind a sofa. Completely unaware of the traitorous leg sticking out.

There's so much going on in both our lives.

He'll be a soldier I guess. On the frontlines, staring death straight in the face and spitting on it. Kicking Capitol ass. Charging recklessly, pistol in hand. Full on fighting.

Whereas I'm more of a behind the scenes person. Yes I survived the hunger games but give me a gun and an army of charging men with arms the size of my head and I immediately morph into a helpless little lamb. If all the Capitol has is a pubescent, skinny teenager, weakly clutching a small knife in his bony hand then I'll be okay.

That seems a bit unlikely though.

Instead they have cruel minded children pretending to be adults. For some of them their hair alone could send our men into a catatonic state.

"Gale…"

His head comes out of his hands. Eyes red and wet, nose sniffling. He tries to wipe it away with a shaking hand before I stop him. He doesn't need to hide in front of me.

I guide his hand back down to his knee and use my other to tilt his chin up slightly so he looks me in the eye.

"Gale, you need to walk out of this door and never come back. It's just, it's just" my voice starts cracking. Gale's face crumples more. Tears start to stream down my face.

"Gale it's just, with the war and all the crap going on we can't be together – it's just too hard. What if, what if one of us dies?"

His grip on my hand tightens as he says "the other mourns."

He doesn't get it.

"Gale, if we're together and you die I won't be able to come back, think a mix of my mother and Mrs Everdeen. You might as well take me to for all the good I'd be. You I lov" He pushes my hand away with more force than nesscary before standing up abruptly – knocking the chair over as he goes.

"Don't say it. Don't fucking say it. Do you really think that just because we aren't together all the pain will magically go away? If you really love me then us dating won't mean shit. If you died I'd be crushes regardless of your relationship status – you know why? Because I actually really love you and stupid me I actually thought that you loved me to."

I try to get up but stupid restrictions stop any movement with a menacing looking needle coming alarmingly close. I try to force my eyes to meet his but he refuses to look me directly in the eye. He's fuming, angrier than I've ever seen him. Is it possible to be this angry during a confession of his misplaced, undying love for me?

Then again this is Gale. He scowls in his sleep.

"I love you Gale, god I love you – that's why I have to do this". My voice is shrill, desperate. Yes its messed up but I can't have him going in there thinking that I don't love him. Yes it's selfish. Yes it's making this so much harder than it needs to be but that's me. I am selfish. I am unreasonable. I need my grumpy, obstinate Gale to know the truth.

Unfortunatly grumpy, obstinate Gale is grumpy and obstinate, therefore not believing a single word I say.

He finally looks me in the eye before saying in a dead voice. "Bullshit."

His footsteps thud into the floor as he storms out of my little section. The curtain rips off the rack from the force of him pulling it sharply behind him.

I don't even register the judging eyes boring into me. I just watch the possible love of my life walk away from me forever.

**Sorry that I've been away. First of all I went to Ibiza. Then my computer crashed. And now I won't be updating as much due to the fact that I am now in year 11 and taking more of my GCSE's. **

**Katniss is going to blow up next time which I am very excited about! Also is what has happened to Rory too similar to what happened to Peeta in original? xxx**


	15. Chapter 15

**Peeta**

Katniss screams bloody murder.

Her grey eyes blazing, her hands waving frantically in the air as she screams animatedly. Her screeching echoes down the halls and I have noticed the unusual lack of people in this normally well populated corridor. By well-populated I mean crammed.

I consider going over to help Gale, unfortunately for him I am quite fond of my remaining 3.5 limbs so decide against it.

Sorry mate.

Normally I'm a great person I swear! It's just Katniss looks ready to blow up on anyone right now, even if I haven't made one of her closest friends cry. Well we don't know exactly that it is Gale that made her cry, but we saw him coming out of her room fuming and found her curled up crying.

It doesn't take a genius.

So I've just stayed standing here watching it all unfold, mainly watching the many expressions on Gale's hilariously expressive face. Well it's just different variations of anger mostly.

I'm not sure he can comprehend another emotion.

Katniss and Gale, I don't know what it is about them but would it kill them to smile once in a while? They won't malfunction or something.

My ears strain to catch a glimpse (can you glimpse with your ears? A portion? A section? Oh screw it).

"Seriously what the hell is wrong with you Gale? You're pathetic – path-et-tic. She is in there crying Gale – don't you care? What happened to being internally in love with her or was that all bullcrap?"

She pauses (finally) allowing him to explain himself. I know Gale. He's an obnoxious idiot but he wouldn't intentionally make Madge cry.

He's mean to mostly everyone but fiercely protective of the few he doesn't torture (Madge, Posy and his Mom). Apparently threatening to tear me limb from limb and naming my girlfriend after a plant that makes cats go insane is fine, but make fun of Madge's bed hair and you've crossed his (imaginary) line.

"You don't understand" His voice is raspy, thick. It's as if he's trying not to cry himself.

Surprised he has the capability.

"Well then let me" Gale runs a large, scarred hand through his thick black hair as Katniss' unrelenting eyes bore into him.

"Well let's think, my homes burned down, my brother has been taken by the Capitol, Mom hasn't slept since we left, Posy won't stop asking where Rory is and Vick is still scared of loud noises, then my girlfriend breaks up with me and you are going on like it's my fault. So I'm sorry that she's crying, but it's not my fault."

Oh.

Katniss looks flabbergasted for a second. She hadn't bet on a personal heart-to-heart, just mindless anger and meaningless words. She and Gale don't do 'feelings' I think it's a seam thing.

To be fair not sure if they ever had the chance for a proper chat about feelings and stuff hunting in the forest.

Also Gale is probably the most masculine guy I know. I think talking about his feelings would make his little male ego die. I snigger at the thought of a camp Gale Hawthorne and they scowl at me. It's their reaction to everything.

Oh right, first talk about feelings and crap and some random guy sniggers at him. Surprised my limbs are still intact.

Conveniently forgetting my existence, Katniss immediately goes back to the much more important matters of twirling her braid awkwardly, the heavy brown plait getting stuck between her clumsy (at the moment, normally they are super-humanly accurate) fingers.

At least she isn't hiding under the table.

"Ermm why don't we go back to our room, take this somewhere private" I suggest. My voice decides to make itself much higher and I sound like a fourteen year old boy. Fabulous.

Let's pretend I didn't say fabulous.

They both – almost simultaneously shrug and grunt. Katniss backs up and Gale straightens out. Pretending that he didn't just get pinned to the wall by an underweight sixteen year old girl with a side braid and no weapon.

So begins the really awkward walk up to Katniss'. I pat Gale on his shoulder and he turns around, his scowl deepens.

"Don't touch me Mellark" Calm down dear.

"Put the guns away Hawthorne, It's called being nice, maybe try it sometime, also sorry but you don't do it for me. I don't swing that way."

Katniss smirks slightly as she adds "I hope not".

"Don't mind me, just got dumped but don't let that effect your nauseating coupleyness"

"That isn't a word" Gale actually seems to relish this fight. Smirking now. His breath smells of the sloppy gunk they serve at the cafeteria and his once-dull eyes sparkle with mirth. Oh the joys of teasing a cripple.

"You enjoy teasing cripples don't you?" Katniss spins around suddenly and looks at me. Her eyes narrow as she inspects my (fully clothed) body, as if she'll spot something she didn't before. She does.

The way my weight leans to one side, the slight limp with which I walk, how occasionally my leg with shift into an uncomfortable position and my face will grimace with pain.

Seriously I love her but she's so obtuse sometimes.

"Why didn't you tell me about your leg?" she snaps accusingly. I honestly thought that it was common knowledge.

"It happened a while ago, an accident, you seriously didn't know? They called me sir limps-a-lot for a month"

She leans down to lift the trouser leg up. Wait a second. "Wrong one babe".

Scowling up at me "Don't call me" shudders "babe".

She lifts up the – thankfully – right trouser leg and places a kiss on the cold metal. I can't feel it but it's a sweet gesture. She can be so endearing sometimes…

"Well, if you've finished taking your boyfriends clothes off in the hall can we go on?" Charming.

We chat awkwardly for a few more minutes until we reach Katniss' place. I can hear the TV blaring from outside.

She opens to door to find Prim. On the floor. An open pill bottle close by.

Rory's smirking face fades off the TV screen.

**Sorry if its crap, sorry that I haven't updated, sorry for probably ruining characters (to be fair Suzanne Collins ruined them first – the end of Mockingjay). Feedback? Also thumbs up to the cool people who pick up on my F.R.I.E.N.D.S. reference. I have been dealing with a lot of personal shit so will try to update once a week but bear with me on this one. **

**Feel like more of my crappy stories? I have more on my page. Goodbye my beautiful readers. Hugs not Drugs. **


End file.
